


Lost and Found

by Shi_Toyu



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Bucky Barnes Feels, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Character Death, Distrust, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends, Eventual Happy Ending, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Guilt, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Mostly I Make Everything Worse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Permanent Injury, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve, Psychological Trauma, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Questionably Happy Ending, Steve Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-07 10:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 45,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6800767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_Toyu/pseuds/Shi_Toyu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers were back together, legalized and forgiven of everything that’d happened with the Accords. At least the outside world had forgiven them. The more Bucky learned, the more he realized they would likely never be able to forgive themselves. First and foremost, Tony Stark had never made it back from Siberia. At least, not that anyone could find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This is not going to be an easy fic. I don't yet know how graphic it will get, but there will be plenty of triggers along the way for all sorts of things. There will be no main pairing because of how fucked up certain characters are going to be. That being said, there will be plenty of friendship...eventually. You have been warned.

Every inch of Tony’s body hurt, but it was nothing compared to the emotional torment that raged inside of him. He felt raw and torn apart. As if it weren’t bad enough that he’d been the cause of so many deaths and had to carry that guilt, the moment he tried to do the right thing the whole world went to Hell. The loss of the Accords, the fights with Rogers and Barnes, the loss of that friendship right along with Clint’s and Natasha’s, _Rhodey_ , finding out that Barnes had been responsible for his parents’ deaths even after all that and Steve had _known_. He wasn’t sure how any one person was supposed to bear it.

Tony lay on the ground, partially in snow, and stared at the shield Steve had left behind. The cold seeped into the metal that encased him and eased some of the physical pain, not that it mattered. The blood on Tony’s face hadn’t so much dried as it had frozen. He felt drained and exhausted to the point that it surpassed the need to sleep. Despite all the pain, a transcendent kind of numbness had overcome him. He couldn’t even think about getting up, about moving. His suit was fried anyway and surely Steve and Bucky had taken the Quinjet. It wasn’t like there was anywhere he could go.

He’d have to get up eventually, of course. He knew that, in a distant sort of way. He’d probably have to scavenge for parts from what was in the HYDRA base to at least get a message out for a pickup. God, but there would be Hell to pay for this entire, massive clusterfuck. Somehow, he’d have to scrape up the energy to deal with it all, to try and hold things together when they did nothing but fall apart. Tony’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. He was so _tired_ of the struggle.

He couldn’t be sure how much time had passed since Rogers had left him there, dragging Barnes off with him. Hours, at least. In all honesty, Tony couldn’t even bring himself to care. The sky outside had fallen dark as Tony floated in his half-aware state. He probably had frostbite, now that he thought about it. The Iron Man armor, especially without power, wasn’t exactly insulating. When he first heard the sounds coming from deeper inside the compound, it took Tony a minute to place what they were.

The sounds continued though, and Tony’s sluggish brain eventually registered them as footsteps, several sets. Voices accompanied the footfalls, though Tony couldn’t make out the words or at least was having trouble processing them. His brain felt like it was moving through molasses. He rolled his head to the side, the most movement he’d made since he’d been left alone, to watch in the directions the noises were coming from.

Something inside told him he needed to get up, to move, to _go_ , but Tony couldn’t so much as make his fingers twitch. He couldn’t know who it was that’d found the base and was investigating, but, in the end, he supposed it wasn’t like it really mattered. Tony didn’t have any friends left. All he had were enemies, those who were quicker to turn their backs than to give him a smile. It certainly wasn’t Rhodey or that Spiderkid coming to have tea. Pepper hadn’t talked to him in nearly two weeks and Happy was with her.

Light was the first thing he saw, the blinding beam of a flashlight sweeping over floors and walls. It swept over him, too, and then jerked back to focus on him. The voices were louder, all of a sudden, and then the footsteps picked up in speed. The shadowy shape of a person crouched beside him, the others staying back. Tony couldn’t even say how many there were. Two or twenty, it made no difference to him. He attempted to focus on the person crouched beside him, with moderate success. It occurred to him for the first time that he likely had a concussion.

Goggles and a ski mask were pulled aside to reveal and man’s face framed by a furry hood. His skin was tanned and weathered, his expression grim. He said something that Tony couldn’t make sense of, a foreign language maybe, and then said something to the rest of the group when Tony didn’t respond. Tony felt himself beginning to drift again until a gloved hand on his chin brought him back.

“Tony Stark,” the man said gruffly, his voice heavily accented. “Iron Man.”

Tony could only blink sluggishly at him. The man’s frown deepened. He spoke again to those behind him and Tony let himself slip away even as he felt hands upon his suit, lifting him enough to begin dragging him back into the compound.

.

Another enemy fell as Bucky and the other Avengers headed deeper into the base. It’d only taken a year for Steve to track down someone able and willing to help with what HYDRA had left in Bucky’s head, a Professor Charles Xavier. Of course, it’d taken months on top of that until they could be sure all of the programming had been removed. Nearly two years in total and yet so much had happened, so much had changed. It seemed like such a short time in his lifespan and yet…

The Avengers were back together, legalized and forgiven of everything that’d happened with the Accords. At least the outside world had forgiven them. The more Bucky learned, the more he realized they would likely never be able to forgive themselves. First and foremost, Tony Stark had never made it back from Siberia. At least, not that anyone could find. The media backlash from his disappearance had been huge.

At first, the popular theory had been that he’d just run off to avoid taking any responsibility for what happened. Those were the sensationalists, though, that were driving that theory. No one with any real authority believed it, though there were some who believed he’d dropped off the radar to help Bucky and Steve hide. As time had passed and the search led by Tony’s friends and associates became more and more frantic even those who doubted had to admit that his disappearance seemed to have a sinister edge. It certainly didn’t help their theory when Steve and Bucky reappeared without Tony accompanying them.

Bucky was already back in cryo by the time the news hit the media, but Steve and T’Challa had immediately headed back to Siberia to search for answers. They’d found drag marks and footprints inside the compound, the signs of some sort of aircraft outside, but that was it. Steve had snuck into Ms. Potts’ home to leave the information where she would find it, but it got them no closer to finding Tony. Four months after his disappearance, the Iron Man armor been dumped outside of Stark Tower. It was beaten to Hell, ripped apart, and covered in blood. Reports confirmed that the blood was Tony’s and there was more present than a human being could survive losing.

A villainess by the name of Madame Masque claimed responsibility for Tony’s death and even released a few short videos of the man himself being tortured. Bucky had looked them up and watched them, driven by some morbid sense of curiosity. Tony’s screams reminded him of his own when he was strapped to the chair back with HYDRA. He hadn’t even been able to finish the first one and it still haunted him if he dwelled on it for too long. He hated going into Steve’s office and seeing the Iron Man helmet, scratched and burnt with shattered eye slits, sitting there on his desk. Steve claimed it was a reminder but it only reminded Bucky of nightmares.

Eventually, though, there was another alien invasion and Steve, right along with his band of misfits, had risen up in Earth’s defense. With the loss of Iron Man still fresh in their minds, the people of the world seemed much more willing to welcome them back. There were more restrictions than there had been before, but the Avengers were still able to run themselves. Since the claim had been announced, Steve’s top priority had been apprehending Madamee Masque.

She was a slippery one, though, and more than happy to fight dirty at the drop of the hat. Every time they’d felt like they were closing in some new emergency would arise and she would slip through their grasp. Bucky knew that Steve, and the rest of the team, too, felt like they had to get her. She’d killed Tony and they hadn’t been able to stop it. Pepper Potts lent them resources for that goal, but would provide nothing else. Rhodes refused to speak to any of them besides Spiderman and occasionally Vision.

The team was in the middle of storming one of Madame Masque’s hideouts, actually. The intel had come from Sharon Carter, who had lost her job over slipping Steve information so regularly but had been appointed to help them when the Avengers had reformed officially. She was very good at her job. Time was of the essence, though, and not a one of them wanted to give Masque a chance to slip away. The others tore through their own opponents even as Bucky pushed deeper and deeper into the base.

He ran into Widow about three levels down, a fierce expression on her face. She jerked her head down the hall even as she kept on moving. Bucky fell in behind her without question. They could clear a lot more ground together and covering each other’s backs.

“Ran into a very helpful guard just a minute ago,” Natasha said by way of explanation, pausing only to throw a punch hard enough to knock her opponent out. “Masque has rooms this way. She keeps everything of importance to her there. It’s the first place she’d go in case of an attack and even if we don’t find her, we could find plenty else of use.”

“Provided we get there before any of it’s destroyed,” Bucky supplied as he gunned down three guards in the hallway ahead without breaking stride.

“Yes. So let’s hurry things along, shall we?”

They fought in tandem, working together to take out anyone they encountered. Bucky may have never known Tony Stark, not really, but that made him no less willing to fight in the name of a good man. He knew that for the others it was more personal, but the only memories Bucky really had of Tony were from the man trying to fight him and take him in…or from the end when Tony was trying to kill him for killing his parents. He could understand the reaction completely but that didn’t make it any more pleasant to deal with.

Natasha indicated a door to the left of the hallway and Bucky covered her as she forced her way in. It was a bedroom, a woman’s judging by the vanity set up against one wall. Baubles and papers covered every surface, the entire room a bit of a mess. The furnishings were all upscale and nicer than anything the average person could afford. It looked like the guard had been telling Natasha the truth.

Neither of them dropped their guard as they began to quickly search the room. Bucky kicked in the two doors in the room, one leading to the bathroom and another to an expansive walk-in closet. Natasha swept the room in her own way, as well, sweeping aside a curtain to rifling through a bookcase in search of clues. She was the one who found the trapdoor clichély placed under a thick rug. The dust inside had been recently disturbed, meaning chances were good Madamee Masque had gone that way. Natasha adjusted her Widow Bites as they peered down into the darkness.

“Someone needs to stay here and guard this room. There’s no telling what secrets she has hidden.”

“You’ll have a better chance of catching her than I would,” Bucky acknowledged, but grabbed Natasha’s arm to stop her before she could disappear through the trap door. “Steve’ll lose it if she manages to get her hands on another one of us.”

Natasha’s eyes glinted sharply.

“She won’t. The only thing she’s gonna get is what she deserves for everything she did to Tony.”

Then Natasha was gone and Bucky almost felt bad for Madame Masque when the Widow caught up with her. Almost. He could still remember the way Tony sounded in that video. She _did_ deserve it.

He turned his attention back to the room at large, glancing at some of the papers scattered around. He couldn’t tell what they were about without actually reading them, but the techs and analysts who worked for the Avengers would take care of that. As soon as the area was cleared, there’d be a cleanup crew to pack up this entire place and take it back to headquarters. Bucky just needed to make sure no goons came in to destroy it before they had the chance. Madame Masque would have an office somewhere in the base, too, but Bucky couldn’t worry about trying to cover all possibilities.

Nothing appeared obviously dangerous as Bucky took his time strolling through the room and looking everything over. There was a wooden box with a glowing stone in the lid that Bucky would bet money was magical, but there wasn’t anything too alarming. He decidedly ignored the blood-crusted bullwhip curled up on the bedside table. He approached the vanity instead, pictures stuck in the edge of the mirror like some scene from a movie about a teenage girl. Bucky’s stomach roiled when he got close enough to notice they were all of Tony. Just how sick was this Madame Masque?

Tony strapped to a table, strung up from the ceiling, sprawled boneless across the floor. In the few where he was looking at the camera, his eyes were nothing like the ones Bucky could only vaguely remember from their brief encounters and the pictures he had seen since coming back. They were listless, unfocussed. If it weren’t for the pain that lined Tony’s face, Bucky could even have believed they were taken after death. There was one where Tony was hanging limply from where his wrists were chained to the ceiling and he was wearing a full three-piece suit, though it was soaked through with blood in several places. Bucky had never even heard of dressing up a captive just to torture them.

One photo in particular jumped out at him from among the rest. It was clearly older, judging by the discoloration of the ink and the wearing at the edges. Bucky almost didn’t recognize Tony in the picture, between how young he was in the photo and the lack of his distinctive facial hair. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen or so, baby fat still clinging to his cheeks. He looked sullen and bored, the complete opposite of the young woman clinging to his arm and beaming happily. Bucky could only assume this was the true face behind Madame Masque. She hadn’t just taken Tony because he was a hero and that irritated her. They had some sort of history.

He moved on after that discovery, checking over the rest of the room and then slipping into the closet. Madame Masque was no minimalist, that was for sure. She had jewelry and clothes and bags and shoes, all meticulously hanging or put away, unlike the state of her actual bedroom. It took Bucky longer than he cared to admit to realize that there was a section of the closet that wasn’t for her. Men’s shoes and clothes stayed there. They were impeccably cleaned but Bucky was still able to spot a bit of blood inside the lip of one of the shoes. He quickly headed for the bathroom, checking and confirming his suspicions that there were products there meant exclusively for the male gender. He headed back to the closet to see what else he could find even as he activated the switch for their coms. The team tried to keep the coms as clear as possible, but if there was ever a time for an exception, it was now.

“Cap, I think I found something. Can you head to my coordinates?”

There was a grunt as Steve likely took out yet another opponent.

_“I’ll be there in less than two minutes. What do you have?”_

“Not sure yet, but it’s something I think you should see.”

He didn’t want to say what he _thought_ it meant. If hopes were raised only to be dashed…Steve would get through it but it would take a toll. Despite everything, Tony had been a friend.

_“Alright. I’ll be there as fast as a I can.”_

“See you soon, Steve-“

A muffled thud had Bucky spinning around with his gun up, aimed at the large armoire next to the door. There was another little shuffling sound and then renewed silence. Bucky stayed still for a long moment before cautiously approaching the cabinet, his gun staying trained on the carved, wooden doors. Metal fingers wrapped around one of the handles and he paused again, listening closely, before he threw the door open. The man inside, chained and bloody, cringed away even as Bucky hurriedly lowered his gun and opened the other door.

“Shit!” Then, remembering his coms were still wide open. “I have Stark. He’s alive. God, he’s fucked up but he’s alive.”

There was a clamor over the coms, too much for Bucky to make anything out, but he knew it meant the others would be heading to his location in masse. All but Natasha, most likely, as she continued to hunt down the woman responsible. Bucky pushed the distraction aside in favor of examining Tony more closely. He needed to find a way to get him out of there without hurting him further.

Tony’d been kept groomed, under the blood that was dried against his skin. His beard and hair were trimmed, his clothes silk pajama bottoms. His arms had been pulled up over his head and cuffed to the ceiling of the small space. Blood was tracking down from where the metal cut into his wrists. He hung there heavily, his weight unsupported by his legs, as if they had just given out on him. There was more blood, lines of it as if from cuts or gashes, though he did not seem to have wounds beneath them. Most worrying was the dark purple coloring of several of Tony’s fingers and most of his hands, the same color showing up again on his feet and toes. Of all things, Steve’s shield, the one he’d dropped and left behind in Siberia, hung on the back wall. It was partially hidden by Tony’s drooping frame, but it was instantly recognizable none the less.

The genius flinched as Bucky reached for him, but didn’t struggle. His eyes still held that dulled, almost dead quality to them that they’d shown in the pictures. He didn’t look at Bucky as the former assassin wrapped an arm around his waist to lift him and take pressure off his arms. His head fell forward, resting on Bucky’s shoulder so that hot puffs of air blew against the skin of his neck.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Bucky told him, though this lack of response was honestly starting to worry the soldier. “The whole team’s here, plus some you wouldn’t have met. You’re going home. You’re safe now.”

Still nothing, but Bucky just lifted the smaller man up a bit more, frowning at how light he was. A hand run down Tony’s side revealed ribs pressed out against the skin. He was dangerously underweight. Leaving that for later, Bucky reached up with his metal hand to examine the shackles around Tony’s wrists. They were of a thick, heavy metal and the chaffed and cracked skin peaked out from either side. The chain in between them was short, too, barely long enough to attach to the ceiling of the armoire with two links on either side. There was no way Bucky would be able to get them off one-handed without causing Tony more pain.

Footsteps in the bedroom had Bucky drawing his gun again and making sure he was between Tony and the door. It wasn’t hard, considering the armoire was tucked to the side of it and all Bucky had to do was lean sideways to get a view into the bedroom. Steve was hurrying toward him, his expression such a mix of emotions that not even Bucky could identify them all. Bucky beckoned him closer.

“He’s cuffed to the top of this thing. I need you to get the cuffs off while I lift him.”

Hope shined in Steve’s eyes as he crossed into the closet and finally came into view of Tony. That’s when the screaming started.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's coming home.

Peter heard the screaming before he spotted the room. It rattled him down to his very bones. His spidey-sense was going haywire and he dashed on, his feet almost slipping out from under him as he darted into what must have been a bedroom and then followed the terrifying noises into a huge, walk-in closet. Mr. Stark, the man he’d thought of as a mentor for all of a day before he’d vanished trying to follow and help Cap, was inside some sort of cupboard thing, thrashing wildly and producing a noise that barely even sounded human anymore.

Barnes and Cap were both trying to hold him still, to little avail. Blood streaked down Mr. Stark’s arms like a gushing tide and Peter had to push down the urge to vomit. He’d seen a lot of things since he’d turned himself into a hero and even more since he’d become an Avenger but gore never failed to make his stomach clench uncomfortably. It didn’t help that this was one of the worst things he’d yet to see. He froze for a long moment before darting forward and grabbing hold of Cap’s shoulder, something he would never dare normally.

“Move back!”

Something in his tone must have showed how serious he was because not even a second later Cap and Barnes were both moving away. Peter shot out several of his webs, all but gluing Mr. Stark into place. One aimed specifically at his hands kept the inventor from injuring himself any further in that way. The screaming cut itself off, reducing down to whimpers and helpless, inarticulate noises. Peter probably would have stared at the once-strong, powerful billionaire for ages if it weren’t for Cap seizing the front of his uniform and yanking him forward.

“What the Hell are you doing?”

Over Cap’s shoulder, Mr. Stark cried out and flinch away as best he could within Peter’s webbing.

“You guys were trying to hold him down! I was trying to help! He can’t hurt himself like this and, the state he’s in, it’s not like we could get him through the base safely anyway!” Peter wanted to flinch away in the face of Captain America’s anger, too, but the hold on his uniform wouldn’t let him go anywhere. “We either need to sedate him or knock him out somehow.”

It wasn’t the first time Peter had been in a situation like this, acting as a known agent for Ms. Pepper and Mr. Rhodey as he did. Usually he had Whistle around to back him up though and that made the whole thing seem a lot more like he wasn’t about to have his head put through a wall.

“Kid’s right,” Barnes said from over Cap’s shoulder. “Tony was just gonna hurt himself more. Call Wanda. She can put him under.”

Peter very carefully did not mention that Mr. Stark probably wouldn’t want Barnes of all people calling him so familiarly or how he _definitely_ wouldn’t want Wanda inside his head. He kept his lips tightly shut. If there was any one thing he’d learned from Cap since the Avengers had reformed, it was what happened when you _didn’t_ pick your battles.

Cap released him gruffly and turned away, one hand going up to activate his coms. Peter nearly jumped out of his skin when he glanced at the door and realized T’Challa had appeared there as if from thin air. As wickedly cool as the guy was, a king _and_ a superhero, he still creeped Peter out with his silent comings and goings. His spidey-sense didn’t even pick the guy up unless they were sparring because damn it all if the guy didn’t mean Peter any harm. Sometimes Peter doubted whether or not his spidey-sense really knew who the enemy was or if it was just as confused as he was.

He headed toward the cupboard, cabinet, whatever. There was probably some fancy, official name for whatever the piece of furniture was but Peter sure didn’t know it. He glanced at the others in the room, but only Barnes kept an eye on him. That was fine. Peter had learned a while ago that Barnes saw a lot more than he necessarily reported to Cap or anyone else. He also seemed to be the only one able to talk the blonde down once he dug his heels in on something. Peter sent the assassin a little wave just to be cheeky since he knew it was exactly what Mr. Stark would have done.

“Hey,” he murmured lowly, trying to keep his voice soothing. He really had no experience with this sort of thing but he couldn’t just stand around and wait like the others seemed content to do. “I’m, uh, not sure if you remember me at all. You showed up at my apartment unannounced and hit on my aunt before offering me some upgrades.”

Vaguely, he heard Cap and T’Challa speaking in the other room. Even with their enhanced hearing, they wouldn’t be listening to him when they were mid-conversation. He’d just have to hope Barnes didn’t rat him out before they got back to base and Peter actually had backup that would stand by him.

“Anyway, you scored me a pretty sweet internship at Stark Industries which was awesome and now I work there. Ms. Pepper’s amazing. She’s gonna be over the moon to find out you’re alive so you just hang in there, okay? We’ll get you back and then she and Mr. Rhodey will take care of everything.” His gaze darted toward the door, where Barnes still hovered, pretending he wasn’t listening to every word. “The Avengers are great, but that’s not where you need to be. We’ll get you taken care of and I _swear_ , Mr. Stark, that we’ll keep you safe.”

The distressed noises had died down a little bit, though the panic and terror in the inventor’s eyes was as strong as it had been when Peter arrived. It spoke of a feeling that consumed the soul and laid waste to reason. Peter knew fear, had seen it many times in many forms and had felt it plenty himself. This went beyond that. It was past fear and he wasn’t sure he had a name to give it. It set the back of his neck tingling.

Peter kept up his conversation until Wanda arrived with her red swirls of magic. Her presence, of course, meant that Vision would be positioning himself as far across the base as possible and Peter couldn’t help but think of the injustice of it. Vision certainly had more of a right to be here than she did. Still, he moved away from where Mr. Stark hung, now limp and silent, but with that un-nameable feeling still in his eyes. Wanda frowned at him.

“I can feel his disturbance already.”

“Yeah, well, he’s been a captive for three years. You’d probably be a little disturbed, too.”

Wanda just sniffed in his general direction and twirled her fingers to summon her magic. Peter grit his teeth and forced himself not to shoot her with a web, too. Silently, he apologized for letting Mr. Stark go through yet another invasion of his person when so much had been taken from him already. He’d call Ms. Pepper from the quinjet, he decided. It would be a few hours before they could get back to headquarters at least and that would give her plenty of time to marshal her forces. Ms. Pepper was not someone you wanted turned against you.

.

Pepper’s hand shook as she hit the holographic button to end the call, her finger fumbling over the glass screen of her desk phone. _Tony_ was _alive_. There were a few late nights where she’d entertained the idea, imagined him walking through the door laughing and making apologies he didn’t mean about losing time down in the lab. She’d come up with all sorts of wild reasons for him to have been away. He was forging intergalactic alliances, had been recruited by Fury for a top secret project to save them all from a threat they didn’t even know about, had run away just like people had seemed so willing to believe at first. Anything was better than him being _dead_.

Peter hadn’t been able to say much, but he’d managed more than enough. Pepper had never truly believed any of the stories she told her when she was feeling that far down, had never let herself fall into that trap. To find out now that Tony really was alive…Was there something more she could have done to find him sooner? Peter’d said he was hurt but just how severe was his condition? What sort of state would he be in? When Tony’d made it back from Afghanistan he was a changed man. That’d only been three months. This was three years. How much would he have changed this time?

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Pepper tried to direct herself toward inner calm. She’d never been great with high danger situations, but high pressure? She could handle those all day long. Tony needed her and she sure as Hell wasn’t going to let him down now. She’d wondered a thousand times whether or not she could have changed something if she and Tony hadn’t broken up, no matter what James said. Pulling herself together, she flicked across the screen on her desk to call her secretary, not waiting for the call to connect before she started packing her bag.

“What may I do for you, Ms. Potts?”

“Cancel everything on my calendar for today and hold everything for the rest of the week.”

“Ms. Potts?”

“I’ve had something come up and I’ll be out of the office. If anyone needs me they’ll have to wait.”

She trusted her secretary completely, had chosen the young man specifically for his discretion, but that didn’t mean she was going to start spreading this news around just yet. She would wait until she’d had a chance to see Tony for herself. A lot would depend on how badly hurt he was and what he wanted to do. Pepper certainly wasn’t going to take any of his options away after everything. Her legs almost went out from under her as the videos Madame Masque had sent the media flitted across her mind. Pepper didn’t even know how she’d managed to sit through all of them.

“Of course, Ms. Potts,” her secretary’s voice broke her out of her reverie. She had no doubt he was already working of clearing things off her plate. “Shall I inform anyone of your absence?”

“No,” Pepper decided as she zipped her briefcase shut, tucking it and her purse onto her shoulder and a tablet into the crook of her arm. It was one Tony had made, still outperforming most of what was on the market. “Let’s keep it under wraps for now. Have Happy meet me in the garage?”

“I’ll make sure he’s there. Will that be all, Ms. Potts?”

Oh, but how her heart ached every time she heard those words.

“That will be all, Mr. Douglas.”

Then she was grabbing her jacket in her free hand, throwing it over the tablet, and heading out the door. She gave Kyle a nod of acknowledgement as she headed out and he gave her a nod right back, fingers flying over his keyboard and already taking into his headset. Tony would have had a field day throwing ridiculous tasks his way, Pepper knew. He’d always gotten a kick out of throwing them at Pepper just to see how she’d handle them.

She pulled out her phone in the elevator and shot of a text to James, saying that she and Happy would be there soon to pick him up and that something had happened. She didn’t specify what. James deserved to hear the news about Tony in person if not over the phone. Pepper just didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing the conversation. Happy arrived in the garage less than a minute after she had and slid into the passenger seat of the car she’d chosen for the trip. He looked alert, easily recognizing that there was something going on even if he didn’t have any information.

“Where are we going?”

“To pick up James and then head to Avengers headquarters.”

Happy started. They never went to the Avengers facility. Ever. None of them could stand to be there after what had happened to Tony, least of all James.

“What’s happened? Was it the raid? Was Peter hurt?”

Pepper bit her lip as he turned into traffic, eyes on the cars around her. She was suddenly afraid to say it, afraid it might break the spell and she’d wake up or find out it wasn’t true in some way. She pushed such thoughts aside, though. She would not cower when Tony needed her, needed _them_.

“Peter’s fine,” she said to buy herself time. “The raid went well.”

“They got Masque?”

That’d certainly be a reason to go to the headquarters, but it wasn’t the real one. Pepper took several deep breaths, her throat feeling tight. Driving was not the time to start shaking and crying with relief.

“She got away. They found Tony, though.” A sob escaped her despite her efforts. “They found Tony. He’s alive.”

She couldn’t see Happy’s face, but she knew there would be a whole plethora of emotions crossing it. Tony had been dear to all three of them and Happy had known Tony even longer than Pepper had.

“Alive?”

It sounded like he was almost afraid to believe it. Pepper knew the feeling. It’d been three _years_.

“Peter wasn’t able to tell me much, but yes. He’s hurt, but he’s alive.”

“Did you talk to him?”

Pepper shook her head, bristling.

“Maximoff put him under. He was having a pretty severe panic attack when they found him.

Happy made an ugly noise of discontent. None of them were very fond of Maximoff. Tony had always seemed wary and even a little frightened by her. He wouldn’t have wanted her anywhere near his head.

“And Rogers?”

“Is gearing up to lay claim, I’m sure. We’ll reach the headquarters before they will, though. They won’t have a chance to just lock him away.”

There was no doubt in Pepper’s mind that Rogers would fight to be the one to provide for Tony. He blamed himself for Tony’s disappearance, which well he should. That didn’t mean he got to make everything better in his own delusional little world by taking Tony away from his friends, his family. Rogers would probably claim to be a friend, too, but he’d long lost that title. Pepper would let the world burn before she let Rogers get his blood-stained hands on Tony. She’d put the bullet in his head herself if she had to.

“It won’t be easy,” Happy said, though it was clear he was just as adamant about making it happen as Pepper was.

“Nothing with Tony ever was.” She gave a watery smile to the road. It was a good thing James didn’t live far away. He hadn’t been able to stand staying in the tower without Tony there, but he’d wanted to stay close. “I can’t believe he’s really coming back.”

Happy’s warm hand gripped her shoulder in solidarity.

“He’s probably doing it just to prove he can. You know how Tony got whenever someone told him what he was doing was impossible.”

Pepper was relieved to hear that Happy was just as choked up as she felt.

“You’re probably right,” was all she managed to get out.

“Have you called Bruce yet?”

She shook her head. Bruce had contacted her when it came out to the media that Tony was missing and technically rejoined the Avengers when they got back together. He didn’t go out in the field, though, just stayed in the lab. Tony had cared about him a great deal, but Pepper still hadn’t quite managed to let go of the fact that Bruce had run away after Ultron, leaving Tony to clean up the mess just like the rest of them did. Happy nodded his understanding.

“I’ll do that, then. We’ll need all the allies we can get.”

Pepper listened with half an ear as she pulled up outside of James’ building, the man himself waiting for them on the curb. A small duffle bag sat on his lap and Pepper hugged him before taking it to put it in the trunk. James wheeled himself closer to the car.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of emergency this was, but I assumed it has something to do with the raid today. What happened?”

.

Alive. Tony was alive, that utter bastard. Rhodey buried his face in his hands for the ride to the Avengers headquarters, shoulders shaking with his sobs. He’d long since given up hope of even finding Tony’s body. He visited the memorial erected in place of a grave three times a year, on Tony’s birthday, the day Tony’s suit had been dumped outside of SI, and the day Rhodey himself had gotten shot out of the sky. He hadn’t exactly let go, but he’d come to terms with what had happened to his friend.

Only now Tony wasn’t just dead. He’d been held captive and tortured all this time and Rhodey hadn’t been able to do a thing to stop it. The former airman cursed his damn, useless legs for the umpteenth time since he’d woken up in the hospital. They were just as useless as he was. Even when they’d worked he hadn’t been of any help to his best friend. He hadn’t been able to stop Steve or Barnes that day and falling from the sky had only made Tony let them escape so the genius could try to save him.

If Tony had just let Rhodey fall, maybe he could have caught that plane and sent Steve and Barnes to prison where they belonged. Rhodey wouldn’t have been any worse off. He’d hit the ground anyway. Then the government wouldn’t have turned their backs on Tony and left him to go out to Siberia on his own, to be abandoned in a suit that was all but torn apart. Tony hadn’t thought twice, though, and in trying to save Rhodey he’d cost himself more than anyone could ever imagine. If there was one thing Rhodey could be sure of, it was that he’d spend every day of the rest of his life making it up to Tony for failing him so utterly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah. I know I haven't replied to the reviews from last chapter yet but I WILL be doing so tonight. I just couldn't hold this back and wanted it out there for you guys. Please share your thoughts, critiques, and wishes! I love to hear from you all! Also, if you TELL me what you want to see, there's a much higher likelihood of it happening. (Though no guarantees. I have plans.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Touch down...for Pepper Potts

Wanda shifted, her eyes darting toward the cockpit where Clint and Natasha were hiding out. Natasha had been downright vicious since Madame Masque had gotten away yet again, but Wanda still felt she would rather be in there than out here keeping Tony Stark unconscious. Her skin crawled with the sensation of being in his brain once again. It wasn’t at all like it had been before and it felt like poison leeching into her through the connection. She wanted to cut it off, cut him out, but Steve had insisted he be kept under.

Beside her, Stark’s hair brushed against Wanda’s thigh where he was laid on the bench. He was covered by Vision’s cloak, the closest Vision had gotten to Wanda in years and she knew it was due only to Stark’s condition. The weighty shackles still sat around his wrists, waiting until he could be kept down by sedatives so that Wanda could take them off with magic. Trying to pry them off with strength alone would only damage Stark further and, from what Wanda could tell, he was plenty hurt enough. His wrists were badly damaged and the coloration of the skin on his hands, arms, and feet spoke of something deeply wrong. Three fingers on the hand she could see looked withered nearly to bone. She shifted uncomfortably, moving away from Stark just a bit. She was getting a headache already from holding him under like this. Nausea threatened to overwhelm her.

She shuddered all over at the sensation of what she could feel within Stark. Despite popular belief, Wanda did not have the ability to read minds. She could only feel the essence of them and influence them with what already existed within. Before, the first time she had met the man, Wanda had used Stark’s own fear to push him in the direction she wanted him to go. His mind had been strong, full of belief and satisfaction despite his fear. Now was a different matter entirely.

The fear still existed, but it had been twisted and had grown. At first, she had thought it eclipsed everything else but no…Apathy wrapped Stark in a shroud, covering every facet of his mind. He didn’t care about anything anymore and it disgusted Wanda. After all he had done, to her, to her family, he just decided he didn’t care? She supposed it was better than smug satisfaction he didn’t deserve but still. He had ruined so many lives. She would never be able to just not care like that. They couldn’t get back to headquarters fast enough. Wanda wanted Stark away from her.

Steve had already called ahead to alert medical of their arrival, thank God. They’d be waiting at the landing pad with sedatives to keep Stark under and release the burden from Wanda’s shoulders. She’d be able to remove the cuffs from Stark and head back to her room where she could wait in peace. Steve would be sure to let her know about anything that happened if it was of importance. Hopefully Steve would also be able to talk some sense into Stark this time around. It was a longshot, given how stubborn Stark could be, but Wanda refused to give up hope.

Sam had settled near Stark’s feet, a position Wanda had expected Parker to take except that Parker’d excused himself almost as soon as Steve had carried Stark on board. A stunning display of loyalty, that. Parker’s mostly-silent opposition to the events surrounding the first Accords hadn’t gone unnoticed. He strongly disapproved of what he thought of as the ‘wrong’ side yet here he was walking away from Stark at the first opportunity. Typical. She supposed she should have suspected as much.

“Hey,” Sam gave her a small smile, “how’s he doing?”

Sam had always had such a soft heart, Wanda thought. It was just one more weakness.

“Well enough.”

Sam nodded with a heaved sigh and leaned back against the wall.

“He’s been through so much…God, he didn’t deserve any of this.”

Wanda considered the two days she and her brother had spent staring at a Stark Industries bomb, waiting for it to go off, and she couldn’t say she completely agreed. How many countless others had suffered similarly because of Stark? She had lost her brother and both her parents to Stark’s negligence and even mal-intent. There were countless other families who had the same happen. Zemo, who had started all this, had been just another of Stark’s hapless victims. As much as Wanda wasn’t one to condone torture, she couldn’t help but think Stark had brought all of this upon himself.

Stark made enemies wherever he went, as far as Wanda could tell. Death and disaster followed him around like destructive, overly-attached puppies. He might not go by the title Merchant of Death anymore but that didn’t mean it applied any less. He’d turned the whole team against him when he pushed for the Accords. He’d just pushed and pushed and all but smothered them with it. Maybe if he’d taken a different approach Steve wouldn’t have gotten so fed up with him. It certainly hadn’t helped Stark’s case with Wanda, at any rate.

She’s been much happier add her signature to the documents just a scant year and a half later, after the invasion Steve had led them in putting a stop to. The world had seen, then, how much they needed the Avengers. With the Accords behind them, the team was reinstated and all was forgiven, even if the governments of the world still had administrative tape for the team to jump through for every mission. Steve and the others had it all well in hand. Wanda herself never even had to bother with it.

She didn’t say any of that to Sam, though. Again, he was just too soft hearted. He’d bleed for anyone with a sob story, but Wanda’s estimation. That was probably why he got along so well with Steve, the difference being that Steve knew when to make the hard decisions and stick to his guns. Steve wouldn’t just start a fight, he’d be willing to finish it. Unlike certain arrogant billionaires, Steve knew how to make sacrifices and even then he was so loyal that he would come back to help his opponent get back on their feet. She knew he planned to do it now for Stark.

“Steve will take care of him,” she said. “He won’t let down anyone he considers a friend.”

“We all will,” Sam agreed, even though that wasn’t at all what Wanda had been saying. “None of us are going to leave him behind again.”

Wanda thought he should speak for himself.

.

The group that met them on the landing strip wasn’t at all surprising, at least as far as T’Challa was concerned. He noted Steve bristling before the medics had even made it to Stark. The Captain exited the quinjet and squared off with the entourage led by Ms. Potts. Both parties looked like they were ready to declare war.

“Captain Rogers,” Ms. Potts greeted icily.

“So you’ve already heard the news, then. I suspected as much.”

Steve’s gaze flickered to where the Parker boy was easing his way out of the quinjet and sidling up to align himself with Ms. Potts and the others.

“Yes. As hard as the concept may be for you to grasp, _my_ people understand a little thing called loyalty. Of course I’ve already heard. I do hope you’re not planning to stand in my way.”

“Steve,” Dr. Banner interrupted before the situation could escalate any further. That was generally a good idea whenever Ms. Potts and Steve were in on the same conversation. “I think we all want the same end result here. Let’s handle the details later. How is he?”

Steve looked for a moment like he wanted to argue but T’Challa stepped up beside him, taking over in response to Dr. Banner’s question. These were roles they each had played more than once over the past few years.

“His wounds are not as bad as I might have feared, had we known he still lived. We will have to wait and see what the doctors say to know for certain, but I believe he will heal. My main concern would be the discoloration of the skin on his hands and feet.”

“Discoloration?” Colonel Rhodes broke in, quickly focusing on the health of his friend over the fight they all knew was coming.

“They look severely bruised, but the skin is dried out severely. I confess I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I have,” James spoke up, shifting a bit from where he stood at Steve’s other side. “Never that severe, but I saw frostbite plenty enough times back during the war to recognize it now.”

“Frostbite? That’s impossible!” Steve was already shaking his head. “Madame Masque’s base wasn’t anywhere near the colder climates. I don’t think there’s anywhere in South America that gets that cold.”

James just shrugged.

“Look, I’m just saying what I’m seeing. Who says she couldn’t have stuck him in a freezer or something? Or used God knows whatever crazy devices she’s got floating around to freeze him? It could have easily been just another form a torture to her.”

T’Challa’s lips pursed as he mulled it over.

“No, I don’t think so. I would have to watch them again to be sure, but I am almost certain Mr. Stark’s fingers and toes, at least, already bore the discoloration in those videos that were released to the public. I thought they were bruises, originally, and saw no reason to doubt that more could have been made.”

James looked pained.

“There’s no way he’s had frostbite untreated for two and a half years, at least.”

“It’s entirely possible, as far as I’m aware. More likely it’s been closer to three. He _did_ go missing from Siberia.”

Mr. Hogan sneered, the expression twisting his face into something bitter and ugly.

“That’s certainly a nice way to put it. Sounds much better than ‘was beaten and abandoned by the people who were supposed to be his friends.’”

As far as T’Challa knew, no one but James, Steve, and himself knew exactly what had happened in Siberia. T’Challa hadn’t been around to witness the end of the fight, but Steve had told him about it later. It had simply unavoidable that Ms. Potts and the others had discovered that a fight had taken place. There was no need for them to understand the full extent of it.

“He didn’t get frostbite from Siberia,” James insisted, shaking his head and showing visible irritation. That happened sometimes, when he got frustrated. He still couldn’t handle it well. “Three years of frostbite just hanging out? He’d have gangrene and infection and _rotting, decaying flesh_. No way has it been there that long. They would have had to cut it off before it killed him.”

Just the idea of it seemed to be getting to James, both of his hands coming up to fist in his own hair. Steve was already reaching for him but James jerked away. In the other group, Happy was wrapping and arm around Ms. Potts’ shoulders and Colonel Rhodes was trembling ever so slightly.

“Either way, it is useless to speculate. We must wait until we know more. Surely it won’t take lo-“

“Captain Rogers!”

They all turned back toward the quinjet to see the medical team maneuvering a gurney down the ramp. The still-unconscious Stark already hooked up to fluids and being fussed over from both sides. One of the medics was hurrying ahead of the others, toward the two groups. The look of him did not raise hope.

“What is it? Is something wrong with Tony?”

Ms. Potts sounded desperate and T’Challa couldn’t blame her. The medic glanced between her and Steve quickly before addressing the Captain again.

“We need Dr. Cho here, Sir, as quickly as she can make it.”

Every single one of them stiffened.

“We have one of her machines already. What do you need her for?”

The medic quelled, clearly unused to having to face the Captain and give bad news.

“There are complications we’re noticing already,” he said diplomatically. “We could use her expertise.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed.

“What sort of complications?”

“I’m sorry, Captain Rogers, but I’m not at liberty to disclose. Doctor-patient confidentiality dictates-“

“That doesn’t usually apply among the Avengers. We’re a team.”

T’Challa could see where this was going already. He could also see Colonel Rhodes sending some subtle signs to the Parker boy before the lad slowly began to wheel him back, away from the group. The two turned to follow the stretcher bearing Stark into the headquarters.

“Yes, Sir. The Avengers all have paperwork in place that allows for such things, but Mr. Stark has none. Only his kin or those with the power of attorney can make medical decisions on his behalf or be told the details of his condition.”

Steve looked thunderous.

“Tony’s an Avenger, too.”

The medic quelled.

“Of course, Captain Rogers,” he rushed to reassure. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t have the _paperwork_.”

“Luckily,” Ms. Potts looked like a preening peacock, “ _I_ have some paperwork of my own.” She flicked around on her tablet before holding it out to the medic. “You can check your own records to confirm, of course, but as you can see I have the power of attorney where Tony is concerned.”

The medic glanced over the information on the tablet quickly before glancing at Steve once more.

“Very well, Ms. Potts. In that case, we’ve found signs of-“

“Wait,” Ms. Potts held up a hand to stop him. “I’d prefer to hear this news in private, if you don’t mind.” She sent a serene smile Steve’s way. “This is something for those who _actually_ care about him. Come, let’s go inside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to make sure everyone is aware that Wanda's view are not my own. This is simply how I imagine her thought process to work. (Of course, I'm a little biased due to the fact of fuck that bitch.) Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Body trauma.

Rhodey was eternally grateful that Peter had decided to stick it out in the Avengers and also agreed to act as an agent for Pepper. He didn’t sneak around and steal anything but it still gave them an inside look they wouldn’t be able to get otherwise. It also meant that Peter knew exactly where to take Rhodey’s wheelchair even after the stretcher carrying Tony had disappeared into an off limits area of the medical wing. He wheeled Rhodey right up to what was likely the equivalent of the nurse’s station.

“Hey, Patty-cake,” Peter greeted brightly. “Special delivery.”

The young woman behind the counter had scaly skin that was molted green and pink, antennae protruding from her forehead and a face that looked more like a rabbit than a human. Her nose twitched as she turned to level Peter with a no-nonsense look.

“You’re here for Mr. Stark, right?”

“And I’m sure you already have a whole pile of information on what’s going on.”

“None that I can share with you, klunchgrall.” She typed something into her computer with a blur of her four fingers…in total. “Looks like Ms. Potts has the power of attorney. All information sharing must be approved by her.”

Peter pouted but Rhodey hoisted himself up straighter in his wheelchair.

“Colonel James Rhodes, ma’am. I’m Tony’s next of kin.”

That earned him a skeptical look but the woman consulted her computer anyway, pausing when she found the information Rhodey knew she would.

“Brothers? Really?”

“My ma always said he was like another son to her so Tony just made it legal for her birthday one year.”

The woman shook her head in disbelief.

“Terrans…Well, I suppose that clears you, though. I don’t have complete information but our files are constantly updating with new input. I’ll tell you what I can but please bear in mind that any of it is subject to change as new information is uncovered and treatments are administered.”

Both Peter and Rhodey nodded seriously. Neither of them wanted to put finding out about Tony in jeopardy.

“Alright, then. At current, the doctors have found signs of severe malnutrition and a dangerous amount of weight loss due to Mr. Stark’s captivity. He’s lost a lot of muscle mass and there’s some concern about the tissue between his joints being inflamed. He’ll most certainly need a special diet designed to get his body back on track as well as physical therapy to regain a full range of movement. He’s being kept sedated for his full examination due to the severe reaction reported from when he was found. He’s been prescribed…” She frowned at her screen. “That can’t be right.”

Worry bloomed in Rhodey’s chest.

“What is it?”

The woman just held up a single finger to tell him to wait and pressed a few buttons on her phone, assumedly to get in touch with the medics in the back.

“Cruize?” she spoke into her headset. “Yes, I’m looking in the computer and it’s telling me Mr. Stark is being kept under by five milligrams of chlorifsenthite on a drip cycle of fourteen. Is there a glitch or-“

Her nose wrinkled upward.

“But that’s not possible.”

God, Rhodey would give up the movement of his arms, too, just to know what was happening.

“Right, yes. Thank you.”

She pressed the button to hand up and blinked huge eyes in their direction, still clearly reeling from whatever it was she’d been told.

“I’m sorry.” She sounded shaken. “It appears there have been a few unexpected developments where Mr. Stark is concerned. They hadn’t quite hit the database yet.”

“And what are they?”

Rhodey tried not to snap at her, but it wasn’t easy.

“Mr. Stark is exhibiting a level of healing factor there’s no record of him having. We don’t yet know if it’s been temporarily induced by a chemical or if it is now a permanent addition to his former abilities. Once he’s in a more stable condition the doctors will run a few tests to find out more.”

Rhodey shook his head as if to clear it. For a moment, he was sure he’d misheard.

“A healing factor?”

“The first administration of sedatives was burned from his body in record time and there were several abrasions on his wrists when he arrived that are showing signs of healing since his restraints were removed. I’m afraid I don’t know any more than that on the matter but I can assure you that the doctors will be looking into it. If a foreign substance were introduced to Mr. Stark’s bloodstream, then it could have all sorts of effects. We’ll want to be fully aware of what it is and what it can do.”

“But it’s a good thing, right?” Peter asked. “I mean, a healing factor means he’ll be better in no time right? Cause there was some super freaky shi-“ he glanced at Rhodey, “stuff going on with his hands and feet and that’ll all get healed, right?”

Patty, or at least that’s what Rhodey assumed her name was, made an annoyed kind of clicking sound.

“It the healing factor is stabilized, then yes, perhaps. There are signs of where it has already healed him of other injuries. If it is not stabilized, however, it could continue to feed on the energies of his body until it devours him. That is why it’s so important for us to isolate the change and analyze it.” Her gaze drifted to Rhodey. “We will do everything in our power to make sure Mr. Stark makes a full recovery, I assure you. Dr. Cho has already been called in to consult on the damage to Mr. Stark’s hands and feet.”

God, _fuck_.

Rhodey had to squeeze his eyes shut and take deep, calming breathes. How did this shit keep happening? How much did the world expect Tones to take before he just couldn’t take any more? Even if the healing factor did nothing but good, it was just one more thing that’d been thrown at Tony without his consent that he would have to deal with for the rest of his life. Tony’d had the chance at a healing factor when he’d used Extremis to take out the reactor and yet he’d immediately removed it from his system after the surgery. He didn’t _want_ a healing factor.

Tony was Rhodey’s best friend and Rhodey knew him. Nothing had to be said between them for Rhodey to know how damn proud Tony was to be an Avenger for the sake of nothing but what his brain could do. Tony didn’t have super powers or sneaky assassin skills or anything like that. He was just a really, really smart guy in a suit of armor. It proved wrong all those times Howard hadn’t been proud of him, when no matter what he did Tony was never good enough. Tony absolutely, 100%, would not want that healing factor. It didn’t matter what perks it came with.

Of course, there was always the chance that Tony wouldn’t even be able to _be_ an Avenger anymore. The trust issues with Rogers aside, Tony had been a prisoner of a mad woman for three years. An experience like that left damage far beyond the physical. Rhodey had seen the way he was tortured. There were prisoners of war who’d never been hurt during captivity that still struggled with their experiences every single day. To be _tortured_ for _three years_. Rhodey knew Afghanistan still haunted Tony, right along with his other nightmares. He could only imagine what this experience had done to him.

The world only ever saw the Tony that Tony wanted them to see. They saw strength and confidence which was why it was so easy for them to attack and hate him. They couldn’t see all of the pain he struggled with. Even him team was only allowed to get glimpses. Hell, Tony hid things from Pepper, Happy, and himself without a second thought if he thought it would protect them.

“The, uh, the damage. To his hands and feet.” Rhodey needed a distraction, even if it was a horribly morbid one. “What exactly is wrong with them?”

Patty gave him a glance that was hard to decipher but Rhodey was pretty sure involved pity.

“It’s not pleasant, I’m afraid.”

Rhodey scoffed.

“As if anything you’ve told us so far has been.”

She gave a little half nod that said she didn’t disagree.

“Mr. Stark has severe deep tissue damage to a number of his fingers along with a good portion of his forearms and hands. His toes and feet are in even worse shape with the damage reaching solidly nearly to his knees. Cursory examinations have indicated the damage to be from an old wound. However, the doctors aren’t sure yet if the healing factor has simply been holding the damage at bay the whole time or if it is beginning to reverse the effects. The damage looks to have been caused by frostbite.”

Rhodey knew his expression darkened because his thoughts darkened right along with it.

“Exactly how old would they say the injure was?”

“Several years, at least. The flesh of the most badly afflicted areas has all but mummified itself. Such a process would take quite a bit of time.”

Rhodey cursed colorfully.

“Peter, take me to that sack of shit Rogers. He’s gonna be damn sorry I didn’t die in that fall.”

.

Dr. Helen Cho was packing a suitcase before she was even off the phone with Mike, one of the nurses at the Avengers headquarters. It would take her a good twelve hours to make it to the facility, with all the traveling involved but she wanted to get there as quickly as possible. If what Mike had said about Tony’s condition was true, then they would be needing all the help they could get. She knew he wasn’t wrong. She had trained Mike herself after he’d impressed her so thoroughly in his internship. Mentally, she ran through the list of experts she was acquainted with.

“You said frostbite?”

“That’s how it appears, but it’s gotta be a few years old. It’s a miracle he’s managed to survive this long. It has to be whatever gave him the healing factor. I would bet money that his captors put whatever it is in him a while ago and that’s what’s been staving off gangrene. There has been absolutely no treatment for these limbs. There are signs of refreezing, too. We’ll still attempt a water treatment to see if there’s any more tissue we can save but my guess is he’s going to lose about thirty percent of each arm and up to forty-five percent of each leg. We’re going to have to remove the dead tissue.”

Helen’s heart ached at the thought. She remembered working with Tony before the whole debacle with Ultron happened. He was a brilliant man, making leaps even she and Bruce had trouble following at times. If he came across something he didn’t know, you could be sure he’d be an expert in it by the next day. His capacity for learning and retaining information was like nothing she had ever seen. He was constantly moving with his ideas, too, traveling around the room and gesturing animatedly. Helen could remember his energy more clearly than anything else about him. To think that freedom of movement would be robbed from him…

“My machine can’t regrow limbs, Mark. You know that. If that’s what you were hoping for…”

“I know, Dr. Cho. _Normally_ there wouldn’t be anything we could do about it. It’s this healing factor that has me thinking, though. If we could get your machine to work _with_ the healing factor then it’s possible we could save more of the limbs at the very least. You did that whole study with mutants that have a healing factor and how they might interact with your machine. According to that data, it’s theoretically possible we could reverse the damage completely or at least get it to the point where Mr. Stark would have partial use of his hands.”

“That study was based of theory, not fact. Yes, it seems logical that a healing factor would be able to boost the effectiveness of my machine but there’s never been any actual events of it happening to back that theory up. Besides, unless this is Extremis which Mr. Stark left us plenty of information on, then we have no way of predicting how it will react to something that could be viewed as an intrusion.”

“It’s not Extremis, no, but we’re running a few tests now to figure out everything we can. It’s just…We have to try, don’t we? I remember the stories you told me when you were working with him. What kind of quality of life is Mr. Stark going to have if we don’t at least give it a shot? He’s been through so much already and _done_ so much for this world. My sister was in New York when the Chitauri attacked. The Avengers saved her life. They’ve saved all of our lives more than once. We have to do everything we can to give back. Mr. Stark flew a _nuke_ into _space-“_

“That was years ago, Mark.”

“And what does it matter when it was? Should I instead bring up how he helped stop a meteor from destroying the entire planet? How he was a driving force behind the Accords to keep everyone safe, hero and civilian alike? How Stark Industries is still donating arc reactor technology to impoverished countries to help solve the energy crisis?”

“Alright, alright, Mark. You’ve made your point. I was never saying Mr. Stark doesn’t _deserve_ our help, I am just concerned about the consequences if something were to go wrong.”

“No advancements can be made without a little risk, Dr. Cho. You taught me that.”

Helen’s lips thinned, but she nodded along anyway.

“Yes. I suppose you’re right. I’ll be on the next flight out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah. Now we know what, physically, is going on with Tony. Well, mostly. But the rest of it will come.
> 
> ALSO! For all of you enjoying this...here is where I shamelessly tell you to go read my other fics because I'm a horrible attention whore. I have FrostIron, IronWinter, and even another one without pairings! (Maybe Then) I've got smut! I've got fluff! I've got threesomes and cuddles! Also, I take prompts but currently will not be writing any new prompts until the end of May due to the IronWinter Spring Fling.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey and Captain clash...and we catch a glimpse of Tony's future as well as his past.

Being a medical professional, especially an ex-emergency responder, brought with it more than its fair share of uncomfortable situations. Brandon was no stranger to them. Since he’d signed on with the Avengers medical staff, things were generally less uncomfortable…just stranger. There were still sometimes, though, when he felt like the absolutely last place he wanted to be was telling a super-whoever “no.” This was exactly one of those situations.

The animosity between Captain Rogers and Ms. Potts was rather widely known. Ms. Potts certainly didn’t seem at all opposed to making her feelings about the Captain abundantly clear. She never said anything outright nasty where the public could get ahold of it, but that didn’t mean she played nice, either. There were rumors that the leaked information connecting the Captain to Iron Man’s disappearance had actually come from Ms. Potts herself. Brandon wasn’t sure he bought into that theory, if only because Ms. Potts seemed above such actions, but at the same time he could kind of see it happening. Especially now.

“I’m really not at all sure why you’re following us, Captain. I won’t be changing my mind.”

“I have as much right to know how Tony’s doing as you do.”

Ms. Potts spun around on her impressively high heels to glare daggers at the Captain. Barnes and His Highness hovered just behind Captain Rogers and Barnes, at least, seemed to considering the need to hold the blond back. Judging by the look on her face, Brandon was actually kind of sure Ms. Potts could take him.

“No, Captain. You _had_ that right. You lost it around the same time you left Tony _stranded_ in a _HYDRA base_. Maybe you should have put a bow on him too, just so his kidnappers would know you’d left them a present.”

“What I did, I did in defense of Bucky and myself,” the Captain nearly growled. “Tony was out of control. He had to be stopped.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Blame _Tony_ for being _upset_ over his _parents_ being murdered and his so-called _friend lying_ to him about it for _years_. You’re so right. He was completely out of line.”

Captain Rogers made a noise of frustration.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh, really? Because according to testimony from Zemo, that’s pretty much exactly how it went. It’s ironic, don’t you think? If Captain America had just _told the truth_ maybe none of this would have happened.”

Barnes bristled.

“He never lied!”

Ms. Potts zeroed in on him like a heat-seeking missile on a bonfire.

“What would you call it them? Omission of the truth is the same as lying.”

Barnes looked pained.

“He was just trying to protect me.”

“And he did a fine job. Too bad he wasn’t the one paying the _price_ for your protection. That was Tony.” Her glare switched back to Captain Rogers. “Where were you when _Tony_ needed protecting, hmm? After Ultron when everyone was throwing slander at him? When the panic attacks were exhausting him but he could never sleep more than a few hours at a time because of the nightmares? You sure as Hell weren’t there for him then. You weren’t _protecting_ him. Yet here you are now, claiming you have a _right_ -“

She choked off, actually blinking away tears. Brandon couldn’t tear his eyes away. Ms. Potts didn’t seem like the kind of person who cried easily. Mr. Hogan wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a show of comfort. On her other side, Dr. Banner just looked largely uncomfortable. Brandon wouldn’t be surprised if he excused himself soon. Ms. Potts took a moment to compose herself and then drew herself up tall once again.

“Your team may have found Tony, but that won’t mean anything once he’s stable, I promise you. The facilities here are state of the art and the staff is unparalleled and that is the _only_ reason I am not already demanding that he be moved. I want that to be perfectly clear to you. You have no control and no authority over what is going to happen from here on out and if I get my way you will never set eyes on Tony again in your life.”

“No.”

The entire group looked around to see Colonel Rhodes and Peter heading toward them. Brandon couldn’t help but note that Peter looked every bit as shaken as Rhodes looked furious. Ms. Potts seemed to be sweeping them both with an assessing gaze.

“James?”

“I just came from the nurse’s station.” He nailed Captain Rogers down with a glare so fiery it made Ms. Potts’ look like a sunny day. “Tell that son of a bitch everything, every single detail. He deserves to know what he’s done.”

Dr. Banner shifted again.

“I’m not so sure I should be here for this.”

“No, you probably shouldn’t,” Rhodes allowed. “Though I will admit it’d do me some good to see you wipe the floor with that piece of scum.”

More bristling.

“Watch it,” Barnes bit out.

Colonel Rhodes didn’t seem in the least bit fazed.

“Or what? I’m already in a wheelchair. What’s your grand plan? You gonna do to me what you did to Tones? Because right now he’s back there, facing a future where he’ll never be able to walk, too. In fact, he might not even have feet to walk _on_. And, of course, let’s not forget that he’ll likely never be able to use his hands again even if he gets to keep them.” Brandon was perhaps the only one in the hall who didn’t blanch. He already knew. “Tony may never invent anything again in his _life_ because of you, Captain. I hope you’re satisfied. He’ll never be Iron Man again and he certainly won’t be able to stand up to get in your way. Congratulations.”

Captain Rogers looked shaken.

“What? But, no-“

“ _Yes_ ,” Colonel Rhodes snarled. “Frostbite, Captain. Several years old. From _Siberia._ Ring a bell?”

Barnes made a choked-off sound of horror.

.

Tony felt a little like he was floating. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he wasn’t in any pain. It was a bit of an odd sensation. Nice, though. Very nice. He kept his eyes closed and just let himself keep on floating for a few minutes before blinking them open. Whitney had never liked being kept waiting and he didn’t have the energy to deny her even if he wanted to. He blinked in confusion when he found himself in what appeared to be a hospital room.

There were several drips hooked up to IVs and running under the bed sheets. He assumed they were inserted into his thigh, since there was a bit of a pinch there when he shifted. There was a heart monitor beside the bed, too, and more equipment Tony couldn’t be bothered to identify. His wrists and ankles were cuffed to the bed and a woman in scrubs was smiling down at him kindly.

“Hello, Mr. Stark. How are you feeling?”

Tony didn’t know what answer she wanted.

“Numb,” he rasped out.

“That’ll be the pain medication. You’ve taken a lot of damage and we want to make sure you’re comfortable. Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

How was he supposed to know where he was? He hadn’t known where he was for a long time. She just smiled a little more. Idly, he wondered what made her so happy.

“You’re in the Avengers headquarters, in the medical wing. You were brought back a few hours ago after one of the teams found you in Madame Masque’s most recent base.”

Tony’s brow furrowed.

“I don’t…”

“It’s alright if you don’t remember.” She spoke gently and moved a little closer. “You’ve been through a lot. You had a severe panic attack during your rescue and had to be kept unconscious for most of the transportation and examination upon arriving. We apologize for the restraints but they’ll have to stay on until we can do a psychological evaluation.”

If he had the energy, Tony might have shrugged. Restraints weren’t anything new to him.

“Masque?” he asked instead.

“I don’t know, I’m afraid. I’m just one of the nurses. She’s not in medical though, I can tell you that. I was just here to monitor you as we let you wake up again. We didn’t want you to hurt yourself if you were still in a bad place. I’ll go get the doctor and he’ll be able to tell you more.”

Tony watched her leave the room and let his eyes fall shut once more. Avengers headquarters, huh? Whitney had told him the team had been exonerated of all crimes and gotten back together. Apparently they had more than just a couple new members, too. Had any of them been on the team that’d stormed the base and found him? He supposed it didn’t really matter. His thoughts eased into blissful silence as the floating sensation wrapped around him once more. This must be why people got addicted to drugs, if this was from the pain medication.

“Mr. Stark? Are you awake?” a male voice asked, soft enough that it wouldn’t wake him if he were asleep.

Tony opened his eyes once again to see a man in a doctor’s coat hovering in the doorway. He smiled upon seeing Tony looking his way and headed over.

“My name is Mark Wiles. I’m the doctor in charge of your care, though there will be a whole team of us working together to ensure you make as full of a recovery as possible.”

Tony hummed in response. He noted the doctor’s choice of words but then he’d known for a while that he wouldn’t be recovering from this.

“There are some questions I’d like to ask you, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“The healing factor.”

Tony wasn’t an idiot. He knew they would have noticed by now. Any medical professional worth their degree would want to know more.

“Yes. I’m sure you can understand why we’re interested in knowing as much as possible about its effects so we can treat you appropriately and work with the ability instead of against it. We’ve got some tests running through the labs but those will take several more hours to get back and they’ll only tell us so much. Any information you can provide us would be helpful.”

A serum. They wanted another serum. They always wanted another serum. The SSR, HYDRA, SHIELD, Ross. They were all the same.

“I don’t…I don’t know what was in it.”

The doctor nodded easily, surprisingly. He didn’t look like he was interested in punishing Tony for not knowing.

“That’s alright. Do you know how long you’ve had it in you?”

Time, no. Time slipped through Tony’s fingers like water through a sieve. He knew nothing of it, only the vaguest of impressions.

“It was not…long, after I was first taken...I think?”

He couldn’t be certain, but the doctor was smiling at him again so he must have given the right response.

“Good, good. That’s great. That tells us a lot. Now, can you tell me anything about its effects? I know this might be hard so don’t push yourself too far. We can take a break or stop whenever you need to. You’re in control here, Mr. Stark.”

That was kind of funny, Tony thought as he continued answering the doctor’s questions. He was never in control. He also never asked for that break. Instead, he just fell back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've promised to get another chapter of Nothing Is Nothing out before I continue this one but it still shouldn't take me long! Just thought I'd let you guys know. Also, shout outs to my awesome new betas! JustAnAvidReader will be joining me from here on out and this particular chapter has been polished up by the amazing Arwenxs! (Seriously, guys, I can't edit my way out of a paper bag.) A round of applause for these two, if you would!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha, mostly

Being the Black Widow came with certain perks, if you looked at it the right way. At the moment, Natasha’s favorite was that people stayed well out of her way when she was obviously in a bad mood. Tony was safe. They’d found him alive instead of just avenging him. She should be happy but she just couldn’t bring herself to. All Natasha could focus on was how they had failed him to begin with, how she had failed him.

Despite Tony being reckless in the field, he wasn’t one who took his security lightly. If he hadn’t been left in Siberia there wouldn’t have been a chance of anyone getting their hands on him. Natasha had been the one to let Steve and James get away on the airstrip. If she hadn’t been so torn between her teammates then Tony never would have gone after them. Of course, if they’d captured Steve and James then Zemo would have been free to do whatever he wanted and none of them could know he only planned to kill the other soldiers. Even knowing there was no right answer, Natasha chastised herself.

Her guilt had felt bad enough when Tony had only been thought dead. Now, he had spent three years undergoing torture and captivity. She hadn’t even been able to bring his killer-cum-torturer to justice. Madame Masque had escaped, just as she had every time before. This was the closest the Avengers had ever gotten to her and yet still she had managed to slip away. As far as the Avengers could tell, she had no powers or enhancements but was simply incredibly good at running a criminal organization and staying under the radar when she wanted to. It would be months at the very least before they were able to track her down again.

Natasha slipped silently through the halls of the Avengers medical wing. She’d avoided going to Tony on the quinjet. There had been too many people around to witness her guilt then. Now, though, in the middle of the night, she could ensure Tony was safe and as whole as possible. Already, she’d been briefed about the frostbite and Tony’s new-found healing factor. It made her think of the Red Room and all she and the other girls had been subjected to there. Experiments, training, and torture left marks that no amount of healing could make go away. This time, she would make sure she was there to help Tony bear that pain.

The fallen Avenger’s room was quiet when she entered, Tony laying on the bed looking smaller than she’d ever seen him. Hospitals had a way of doing that, she’d noticed. He was bound to the bed by restraints, which she had expected, but she was surprised to find Barnes already in there and standing over him. The former Winter Soldier showed no signs of noticing her even though she knew he couldn’t have missed her appearance. She didn’t speak until she was standing next to the bed as well, across from Barnes.

“When did you get here?” she finally asked, instead of asking why.

She knew why.

“A few hours ago. I made sure the nurse never saw me.”

Natasha nodded. Of course he did. No one was supposed to be here. She reached out to stroke along one of Tony’s atrophied fingers. He wouldn’t have sensation there to feel it at this point.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“We left him there.”

“I let you get there. Is it my fault?”

“Of course not.”

She’d known he wouldn’t think so, even if it was true.

“Then it’s not yours, either. You were defending yourself. From what I understand, Tony wasn’t exactly giving you the option of walking away.”

Barnes actually looked pissed.

“It wasn’t his fault. We pushed him too far. All of us. How much is one guy supposed to take?”

Immediately Natasha’s eyebrows rose and she held up her hands in surrender.

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

Barnes turned away, making a noise of frustration.

“Then why does everyone keep saying things like that? I get upset and suddenly you all feel the need to remind me that he was the one who attacked me. Guess what? _I killed his parents and Steve hid it from him_. What was he supposed to do, offer me a cigarette and a beer?” His bark of laughter sounded bitter. “Do you know what Bruce said to me at one point? We were talking about this whole thing and he told me that Tony and Howard hadn’t gotten along. Like that somehow made it okay! I mean, Jesus, Natasha! Bruce is supposed to be on _his side_ and even he’s throwing shit on Tony!”

Barnes was getting more upset. He probably would have spent the entire night just standing at Tony’s bedside and watching him if Natasha hadn’t shown up. Now he had someone to vent to and past experience said that things would only get worse if Natasha let Barnes continue.

“Deep breaths, Barnes. You need to calm down.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he snarled, turning back to her. “You can’t even manage to admit you blame yourself, too. It’s funny, really, if you think about it. Even Fury blames himself for what happened but at the same time every single one of us is coming up with excuses to put that blame right back on the person who has suffered the most.”

“That’s not what we’re trying to do.”

“Yes, it is,” Barnes shouted, and Natasha couldn’t possibly miss the body on the bed between them give a little jerk. “He didn’t deserve any of this. Don’t you understand that? Don’t any of you understand that? _Tony did nothing wrong._ All he did, all he ever did, was try to keep the Avengers together and even now we’re fighting each other. Now we’re just fighting each other over him. Steve and Rhodes and Potts and Bruce…I owe Steve enough to back him until the day I die but that was nothing but a pissing contest out there on that airstrip. They were more concerned about keeping the other away from Tony than in getting Tony the help he needed. Rhodes and Peter at least went after him once he was inside but I don’t have any doubts Rhodes would have blocked Steve out, too, if he weren’t using Tony’s condition as some sort of punishment.”

Tony whimpered, which did more to shut Barnes up than anything Natasha might have possibly managed. Barnes’ anger vanished in an instant, replaced by enough fear and trepidation to nearly match Tony’s own. The genius was trembling in his restraints.

“I-I’m sorry,” Tony rasped out. His voice was rough and doubtlessly painful to use. “Please, don’t-“ but he was cut off by a coughing fit.

Barnes seemed like he might have a panic attack trying to decide whether or not to offer Tony comfort or get out of his space so Natasha stepped up to gently brush some of Tony’s hair back off his forehead.

“Shhhh,” she soothed. “You’re alright. You’re safe now.”

Wide eyes darted around the room, searching for something. He whined a bit, softly, but said no more. Nearby, Barnes hovered like a helicopter mom on their child’s first day of school. Natasha mostly just tried to tune him out.

“Tony, can you look at me? Focus on me, will you? There we go, that’s it. That’s good.”

Honey brown eyes held her own and she pasted on an easy, relaxed smile. Everything about her demeanor projected calm and encouragement. The last thing she wanted was to send Tony back into a spiral of fear.

“Romanov?”

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s good to have you back, Tony. How are you feeling?”

The genius swallowed and she caught him suppressing a wince.

“Fine. Tired.”

She hummed agreeably, still not moving any further away.

“I would think so. You’ve had a very exciting day.”

His gaze was drifting away again, though at least he seemed calmer now. It landed on Barnes and he frowned.

“Hey,” Barnes greeted awkwardly.

“You were mad,” Tony stated. “You yelled.”

“Sorry. I get upset sometimes and I still don’t handle it very well. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Tony made a motion that might have been meant as a shrug. He started to raise an arm only for the restraints to stop him. He blinked down at himself.

“Right. Forgot about that.”

Barnes’ face had mostly shut down but Natasha could still see the strain around his eyes. His gaze darted to Natasha for a moment before he turned back to Tony.

“We could…take them off, if you wanted. Just for a bit. We can stop you from hurting yourself while we’re here.”

Tony did his little shrugging motion again and Natasha shared a look with Barnes before they each took a hand and undid the straps around Tony’s wrists. The most damage Tony could do was break a bone while flailing and they could easily hold him down to stop that. He didn’t have the fine motor control anymore for anything else.

Once Tony’s arms were free, he used his elbows to shuffle himself a bit further up on the bed. He watched them both warily, but Natasha wasn’t very surprised. After what he’d been through it would be incredibly hard to feel safe again. She wouldn’t blame him in the slightest if he was still waiting to wake up back in that cupboard where they’d found him. She’d certainly known trained agents who’d been captured and never really made it back.

“Dr. Cho has been called in,” she told him softly, noting how he perked up a bit.

“Helen?”

“Dr. Wiles is hoping that she can help figure out a way to modify her machine to work with your healing factor so they can recover more of your limbs from the frostbite.”

Technically, she wasn’t supposed to know about that but Natasha had always known the value of keeping well informed. She was shocked when her words caused Tony to pull his ruined limbs close to his middle and curl around them just slightly, almost protectively.

“No.”

His eyes were overflowing with fear again, though he wasn’t lashing out like the reports said he’d done back at Madame Masque’s base.

“Tony, it’s frostbite. I’m sorry but Dr. Wiles has assessed it to be very severe. If they don’t do everything they can to reverse the effects it’s already had on you then they may have to remove portions of your arms and legs.”

“ _No,_ ” he said again, more vehemently. His fearful gaze, bafflingly, turned on Barnes. “You can’t take them,” he all but pleaded.

“We’ll figure something out,” Natasha pulled his attention back to her. The last thing she needed was Barnes freaking out all over again on top of having to deal with Tony. “I know Dr. Wiles is very concerned about making sure you get the best possible treatment. Okay? Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Her heart ached for him, truly. Tony’s life would be devastated by the loss of his hands. He’d lose the ability to do thousands of mundane daily tasks, and that wasn’t even considering how hard it would become for him to create and invent the way he had before. That was, of course, if he would be able to recover enough mentally to return to anything so much as resembling his former life.

“I-“ Tony cut himself off, then started again, “The frostbite-“

This time, Tony was cut off by the blaring of alarms. He cowered back against the bed, his visible fear skyrocketing. Natasha and Barnes locked eyes before coming to a silent agreement. She dashed from the room as he stayed behind to make sure no harm came to Tony. A perimeter alarm now could not be a coincidence.

.

Madame Masque glared at the Avengers Headquarters as she stepped out of her armored vehicle. She knew her prize was being held inside and she refused to allow him to be taken from her. It’d taken more time than she would have liked to make arrangements for her organization, but she’d finally managed it. Now it was time to reclaim what was rightfully hers. These people didn’t deserve Tony. None of them did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky was not originally intended to be in this chapter but he decided to be a creeper and show up in Tony's room to watch him sleep anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick Fury and Hanif Branson

Nick Fury was not the kind of man most people would mess with. He wasn’t teeming with muscles or visibly angry every second of the day, but he did exude a feeling of ‘back the fuck off.’ Madame Masque, sitting across from him in the interrogation room with her hands cuffed on top of its metal surface, did not seem to be the least bit bothered. She’d been sitting in this room since she’d let herself be peacefully taken in at just past three in the morning the night before and yet she wasn’t showing the least signs of fatigue. It was now nine am and Fury knew that back in his hospital room, Tony Stark was undergoing his psychological evaluation.

“For someone who showed up and let themselves be captured without even a hint of a fight, you aren’t being very cooperative.”

“I’ve given you my conditions,” Madame Masque responded. “When they are met, I will tell you anything you want to know.”

Fury glared at her.

“I believe it’s already been made clear that what you’ve asked for isn’t going to happen.”

Masque leaned back in her chair as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

“Oh, Nick-knack, you say that as if you have any choice in the matter. I _will_ see Tony again, and soon. The only thing you get to decide is whether you bring him to me or I rip your little facility to shreds looking for him.”

“You aren’t exactly in the position to be making threats so I would suggest dropping the ‘cute’ act. It’s not working for you.”

Masque laughed and it didn’t even sound forced to Fury’s trained ear. She was actually amused by the whole situation.

“Do you truly think I’d be here right now if I weren’t sure I could get right back out? I hold all the cards in this game. I have all the ‘real power,’ if you will.”

Fury’s spine stiffened.

“How do you know about that?”

His specific banter with Loki hadn’t gone into any SHIELD file. That hadn’t been an official interrogation and there was no reason to include it. With SHIELD dissolved for years at this point, Fury couldn’t think of a single way that made sense for Masque to have gotten her hands on the details of that conversation.

“Tony told me, of course,” Masque said with no small amount of glee. “We’re very close, you understand.”

Fury glared at her.

“You tortured him, faked his death, and held him captive for three years. I don’t think that makes the two of you very close. In fact, I’ll be doing everything in my quite considerable power to make certain you never lay eyes on Mr. Stark again.”

Masque let out a very put-upon sigh.

“Why am I not surprised? Tony always spoke rather highly of you and your boy band but I admit I have always held my doubts. He just has such a tendency to see the best in people, don’t you agree?”

“I’m not in the mood for games.”

“How about a deal, then? If you ask Tony, _actually_ ask him and not just pretend you did, whether or not he wants to see me and he says no, I’ll tell you anything you want to know anyway. I’ll let you tear my entire organization to shreds. I’ll even give you the information I have on your other enemies. Do you know where Obsidian is hiding at the moment? I do.”

“Stockholm Syndrome is nothing new. You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Masque looked away from him, instead examining her reflection in the one-way glass that led to the observation room.

“It’s up to you whether or not you take the deal, but just know it’s a limited time offer. I am not a patient woman. If you take too long, I’ll just have to go get Tony myself.”

.

Hanif did not smile as he entered Mr. Stark’s room in medical. He knew many of his colleagues would have gone that route but there was nothing about this situation that brought with it cause to smile, except that Mr. Stark had been brought back. He had a long way to go before he was recovered and Hanif had no desire to belittle the struggle it would be for the genius. He did, however, smile upon seeing James already in the room.

“Mr. Barnes,” he greeted with a nod, “I was not expecting to see you here.”

“Doc? You’re in charge of Tony’s evaluation?”

“Yes, and I find myself being rather rude at the moment.” He turned to Mr. Stark, who was watching the interaction silently from his hospital bed. “Hello, Mr. Stark. My name is Dr. Branson. I hope you’ll forgive my surprise.”

Mr. Stark blinked at him for a moment before giving a little nod.

“Sure.”

“Doc’s the best,” James told Mr. Stark as he headed for the door. “He helped me a lot. I actually feel a lot better knowing he’ll be the one in here with you. I’m not sure I’d actually manage to leave you alone if it were someone like Homwell.”

Hanif just shooed him the rest of the way out the door and closed it behind him.

“My apologies, Mr. Stark. Mr. Barnes was originally assigned to Dr. Homwell and they didn’t see eye to eye on many things. But we aren’t here to speak about them. We are here to speak about you.”

“I’m not crazy.”

That caught Hanif’s attention, but not because of the words Mr. Stark used. It was the tone that tipped him off. Mr. Stark did not sound angry or upset, not even defensive. He sounded resigned, as if he knew his denial changed nothing about the situation.

“Of course not, Mr. Stark. No one thinks that. You have, however, been through a very traumatic experience and displayed a severe reaction during your rescue. I’m here to make sure we know what’s going on so that we can work with you to make sure you are as comfortable as possible. If you are afraid then you probably aren’t very comfortable.”

Mr. Stark looked away from him.

“I’m always afraid.”

“After what you’ve been through, I wouldn’t be very surprised.”

Honey brown eyes were on him again and Hanif could see the gleam of Mr. Stark’s vast intellect within them.

“You’re talking about Madame Masque.”

“Yes. I am not sure if you’re aware but rather early on she released videos. We have some limited idea of what you experienced at her hand. What little was shown is plenty enough cause for fear. It does not make you any less for being afraid. It does not make you weak, Mr. Stark. You are impossibly strong for having survived these years.”

Mr. Stark watched him for a long moment.

“I was afraid long before this. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid.”

Hanif schooled his expression to professional blandness through years of experience. He was starting to see that there might be something far deeper going on than just the expected PTSD or even conditioned fear. Mr. Stark had never been a part of SHIELD and had never been mandated to see a psychologist. Records indicated he’d never sought one out on his own, either, which Hanif did not find particularly surprising. This was likely the first time Mr. Stark had talked to a mental health professional in this capacity.

“And what have you been afraid of, Mr. Stark? Do you think you could tell me?”

There was a moment of silence that stretched out between them, but Hanif was long used to that sort of thing. His was a profession where uncomfortable questions had to be asked. One could not be successful if they were unwilling to say what needed to be said even if it was not what they wanted to say.

“There was an alarm that went off last night,” Mr. Stark commented in a complete non-sequitur. “No one will tell me what it was about but there’s been someone with me ever since. I’m pretty sure Barnes is guarding the door right now.”

Ah. He wanted a show of faith, then. Hanif could not say he much blamed the genius.

“Madame Masque showed up last night,” he said as calmly as he could. He did not want to send Mr. Stark into a panic attack. “She was captured without a fight and is currently being held in the detainment portion of the facility. My understanding is that the former Director of SHIELD, Nick Fury, has taken charge of her interrogation.”

Mr. Stark shuffled a little bit as if to sit up, his face brightening.

“She’s here?”

Hanif fought down a scowl. That was not the reaction he would have expected.

“Yes.”

“Can I see her?” Mr. Stark asked, suddenly more animated than he had been since Hanif’s arrival.

The frown won out, tugging a corner of Hanif’s lips downward.

“It is not outside the realm of possibility, Mr. Stark,” he hedged, “but I am not sure it would be advisable.”

Just like that, all of Mr. Stark’s energy seemed to vanish and he sank back against his pillows.

“Of course.”

It was Hanif’s turn to stay silent for a few moments as he examined the genius in the bed. He had to mentally readjust his approach to the situation.

“If you wish to see her, I can look into making that happen but you need to understand up front that there will be a lot of opposition. I’m hesitant to do it simply because she has spent the last three years hurting you and I would not wish to give her the opportunity to hurt you again.”

“She never took my hands. Natasha told me you plan to take mine,” he sounded upset now, his eyes darting around with a nervous gleam to them. “Whitney would never do that to me.”

One of Hanif’s brows rose.

“Whitney?”

Tony froze. He looked horrified.

“No.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Stark,” Hanif rushed to reassure. He saw where this was going. It was fortunate Mr. Stark was still in the restraints. He would be for a while. “I won’t ask you anything else.”

“No! Stay away from her!” Mr. Stark lurched against his bonds violently, causing an alert to start blaring. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Don’t touch her! Just let us go home!”

Hanif grabbed Mr. Stark’s biceps and pressed them down into the bed, holding him there as best he could. It would only injure his limbs further if the struggling continued. Up close, he could see the wetness glittering in Mr. Stark’s eyes.

“We’re just trying to help you, Mr. Stark!”

Then nurses were rushing into the room and shuffling Hanif out of the way. He backed off easily so they could do their jobs. Two held Mr. Stark down while a third prepped a shot and inserted it into one of the IVs. The genius’s eyelids started to droop within seconds as his struggles ceased with sleep. James hovered by Hanif’s elbow.

“What happened?”

Hanif’s lips thinned.

“Things are worse than we thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...a lot of people were calling for Masque to be all but burned at the stake last chapter...Thoughts?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper's back. Back again. Pepper's back. Send a friend.
> 
> *sung to the tune of Eminem's Without Me*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the little delay on this chapter. The epilogue for 1000 Paper Cranes to See You Kneel just didn't quite want to cooperate with me. Luckily, it's done and posted now so full steam ahead!

Pepper hesitated at the door to Tony’s room, James on one side of her and Happy on the other. Happy’s hand hovered near her elbow but never quite made contact. He seemed reluctant to actually touch her, and for that she was grateful. She needed to do this on her own. Steeling herself, she pushed the door open and held it for Rhodey before stepping inside.

Tony lay upon his hospital bed, strapped down at the wrists and ankles. It was the first time she’d really gotten to see him and she was shocked by how small he looked, how thin, even though she’d been warned of his malnourished state. Barnes hovered awkwardly on the other side of the bed, his eyes darting around the room.

“Sorry, I’ll, uh, clear out for a bit. I’ll send Peter over to keep watch.”

He headed for the door, head down, but Happy held out an arm to stop him.

“What are you doing in here in the first place?” he asked, though he wasn’t as aggressive about it as Pepper might have been. “We were under the impression that the doctors didn’t want him having a lot of visitors.”

Barnes looked sheepish.

“I’m sure you heard about Masque showing up last night.”

Pepper’s lips thinned at the very mention of that bitch’s name.

“We heard.”

“I know she’s locked up and there’s no way she could get through this entire complex but… I didn’t want to leave him alone. Then after this morning with his psych evals, I just couldn’t do it.” His concern for Tony showed clear as day on his face and Pepper almost felt as if she could have liked the guy at one point. “They’re keeping him sedated for now but it’s not a permanent solution. He’ll be awake again in another couple of hours and they’ll reassess.”

James had rolled himself over next to the bed and gingerly taken one of Tony’s hands, so Pepper took it upon herself to act as their friend’s defender.

“You’re certainly being very open about all this information.”

For the first time, Barnes showed a bit of irritation.

“Yeah, well, sorry if I thought maybe this whole situation might go a little easier if we all tried working together instead of jumping down each other’s throats.” He stepped closer, getting right into her face. “You could be over there with Tony right now but instead, you’re standing here being suspicious of me because I’m being _too helpful._ You and Stevie did the same fucking thing on the airstrip yesterday. How about the two of you set aside your pissing contest for two seconds to take care of the guy who actually _deserves_ your full attention.”

And then he was gone, storming out the door before Pepper could even recover enough to give a rebuttal. Her hand rose to flutter over her heart, anger and guilt vying for her attention.

“Come on,” Happy said from beside her, this time taking her by the elbow to lead her to a chair on the other side of Tony’s bed.

James was scowling down at the hand in his own, the blackened flesh looking almost surreal.

“He’s not wrong,” the former air force officer said. “We should be focusing on Tony, not on fighting each other. Steve’s an asshole who deserves every bit of misery that comes his way but spending all our effort on him isn’t going to help Tones.”

“What do you propose we do then? Let him just waltz in and do whatever he pleases just so he can make himself feel better for abandoning Tony in the first place? Or should we try to explain our viewpoints and compromise with him? Because that worked so well for Tony.”

“I don’t have all the answers,” James snapped, then heaved a great sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

Watching Tony’s chest rise and fall, the beeping of a heart monitor ever-present in the background, Pepper wasn’t sure she knew what to do either.

.

“You wished to see me, Father?”

Odin beckoned Thor further into his study, continuing to pour over his reports until Thor stood before him. He seemed to constantly be going over reports lately, as if he were waiting and watching for something.

“Thor,” he greeted, “your campaign went well?”

“Indeed, Father. Alfheim sends her thanks for Asgard’s assistance and promises the same in return should we ever require it.”

“As Asgard should extend her thanks to you, my son, for answering our call time and time again.”

Thor’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“I do not understand.”

Odin gave him something of a half-smile, before rising and striding over to one of the windows lining the outside walls of his office. He stared out over the training grounds and the city beyond with his hands clasped behind his back.

“You have abdicated your throne, Thor, for the sake of the mortals you fight alongside, and while I could not give you my blessing for such a thing officially I did not wish for you to leave our realm with any ill-will in your heart. I did not want to make the same mistakes with you as I made with your brother.”

Thor sucked in a sharp breath. Odin very rarely spoke of Loki anymore.

“It had been my fear,” Odin continued, “one of many, that your love for these mortals might outweigh your love for Asgard and that you might one day leave us permanently, to lend yourself to the mortal cause.”

“Asgard is my home,” Thor assured him. “I could never truly leave her. I care for my friends and shield companions upon Midgard a great deal but I shall always answer Asgard’s call when she is in need.”

Odin turned back to him, studying his face for a moment before giving a small nod of approval.

“It gladdens me to hear you say such things. For now, though, it is Midgard’s call you must head.”

Thor stiffened.

“Has something happened in my absence, Father?”

“Nothing so terrible as what you clearly fear. The battle you must fight on Midgard now is not one you may use Mjolnir to win.”

“I beg you to speak plainly, Father.”

“The Man of Iron was recovered in a recent raid of a lair belonging to one Madame Masque. He is not as dead as he was once thought, but he suffers greatly.”

Thor’s heart soared before he paused, reality catching up with him. How badly must Friend Stark have suffered for Odin himself to become concerned?

“What would you have me do, Father?”

“Your shield brothers and sisters already find themselves divided. This chasm will only continue to grow if there is not someone there to unite them. The Man of Iron must recover but he has little hope of doing so if this continues as it looks to. You must help him, Thor. He is far from himself and you must bring him back.”

Thor nodded.

“I thank you for telling me, Father, and for allowing me to be of what assistance I may to my friends. I confess, I am surprised that you would do so. While you have allowed it, you have also never expressed any fondness for my relations with the Midgardians.”

“Your surprise is not unfounded, Thor. Still, I hold no great love for the Midgardians and surely not so great a love as you hold. Hlidskjalf allows me to see many things, though. The Man of Iron must recover.”

There were few answers there, but Thor knew he would get no more from his father. He placed a fist over his heart and bowed.

“I shall depart at once then.”

The turned to leave, only to pause as Odin called to him once more.

“Thor, you have grown much in these past few years, more than I ever could have hoped for. You have reached a point where you no longer require quite as much of my advice as you once did. Still, I offer you this. Consider wisely, my son, who is to be your enemy and who your friend. It is oft easy to confuse the two.”

.

Loki watched Thor leave Odin’s study with a heavy heart. He collapsed into Odin’s chair with a sigh and dropped the glamour wrapped around him. He shrank in breadth, if not in stature, and grey hair bled to black. Wrinkled skin tightened and tan skin faded pale. Green eyes fluttered shut as he drew a hand over his face. He had known his task would be a hard one, but he had underestimated precisely how exhausted he would feel because of it.

He wished he could be sure that this would work, that Thor would be able to pull the Avengers together for the sake of Tony Stark’s recovery. The war could be won without the Avengers, but it could not be won without Tony Stark, and his recovery would only be achieved if they stopped bickering amongst themselves. Loki couldn’t even blame their behavior on them being pitiful mortals since he’d seen just about every other race do exactly the same thing.

Animals fought for territory, for food, or for survival. Intelligent species fought for pride, greed, and envy. There would never be any end to it. Loki was more certain of that than anything else in his life. At their core, all people were selfish so long as they could be aware of their self. Even those who professed to work for good did so for selfish reasons. Loki was certainly doing all of this for selfish reasons.

Oh, how the Fates must laugh at him now. For Loki’s plan to succeed, he had to rely on Thor of all people. Not even Loki’s magic was great enough that he could impersonate the All-Father _and_ send a clone to Midgard to impersonate Thor and fix things himself. Loki had many talents, but he also had limits. Thor would have to handle this one on his own, though Loki would be watching closely. He could, perhaps, nudge Thor a bit this way or that but it would risk tipping his hand, and that was not something he could afford.

His words to Thor had been true, though, for the most part. The thunderer had grown in many ways since his initial exile to Midgard. Three days had not done much for him other than to introduce him to a new way of thinking. It was thanks to his repeated visits and exposure to that way of thinking that Thor began to change his own views. Midgard was by no means perfect and had plenty of her own problems to deal with, but she provided Thor with perspective and that was something Loki would forever cherish.

He could see that Thor thought differently now, how he would consider himself and those around him before he spoke. Even if he was still a bumbling fool, he at least made the effort. He no longer charged blindly forward like a bilgesnipe whose young had been threatened. It was something he’d honestly never thought he would see in the man he’d once called brother, no matter how many times he tried to show Thor the error of his ways.

Now, though Thor did not know it, the fate of all of the Nine Realms lay upon his shoulders. Were he to fail, they all would fall. Loki would do his part to prep each of the Nine for the part they would have to play, along with all the worlds in between. There were a number of individuals he had singled out to be of vital importance and he was doing everything he could to shuffle them into place. Tony Stark was but one of these individuals. The time would come when all of them would need to be brought together in order to work together and with the state Stark was in…

Loki had actually planned to leave Stark in the hands of the human villainess a while longer. She posed no threat to his life, even cared for him deeply in her own, twisted way. Loki had hoped Stark’s rescue could come at the hands of perhaps one of the others he had singled out. It would have gone a long way in easing the path for shared work. There was an elder elf woman named Korma he had specifically had his eye on for the task. She was powerful of magic, knowledgeable, and had quite a habit of helping those in need.

None of those plans mattered anymore, though, because things on Midgard had progressed while Loki was looking elsewhere. He would have to work with what he had been given, just as he always had. Loki was no stranger to being in a disadvantageous position but it had never stopped him from surviving and, if not coming out on top, then taking his opponent down with him. He would not allow anything to stand in the way of his goal now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Tony and Thor's return.

Tony was starting to get used to being sedated so often. Mostly, he was getting used to going to sleep in the middle of a panic and waking up in a far calmer situation. It was kind of a nice way to get through a panic attack, he had to admit. He hoped they kept doing it. Glancing around, he saw that is was only Dr. Branson and Dr. Wiles in the room with him. Dr. Wiles smiled at him just as he had when they’d first met.

“Welcome back, Mr. Stark. How are you feeling?”

Tony let his gaze drift between them, taking note of how closely Dr. Branson watched him.

“I’m not in pain,” he said.

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. With your others injuries healed up, we were considering lowering the amount of pain medication. We don’t want to do it if your frostbitten areas will make you uncomfortable, though.”

Tony blinked sluggishly before nodding.

“They won’t. I can’t feel anything. All the nerves are dead.”

Dr. Wiles frowned.

“Not even at the transition zone? Do you have any numbness or tingling?”

The genius gave a shrug as best be he was able, noting absently that they’d tightened his restraints.

“HYDRA had the serum nearly perfected,” he told them. “It kept the nerves that were still alive from dying off. It wasn’t enough to bring back the dead flesh, though. That’s why they decided I was useless.”

He couldn’t help the way his lips twitched upward a bit at that. He was always useless. HYDRA just hadn’t gotten that memo before they wasted their time on him. Both doctors, however, looked confused.

“HYDRA?” Dr. Wiles asked. “We didn’t think Mad-“

He cut himself off at a sign from Dr. Branson. Tony sighed. He’d already done damage he would get punished for. There was no point in putting in the effort when he’d be paying the price either way.

“Masque has nothing to do with HYDRA. She bought me from them after they decided their experiments weren’t going to get them the results they wanted. They put me up for auction so they could recoup some of their losses with everything they wasted on me. That was why you got the videos and my armor dumped in front of SI. HYDRA wanted me dead so Masque let them think I was.”

Both doctors looked surprised but Tony couldn’t really bring himself to care. They would do whatever they were going to do with the information. Nothing he did could stop that.

“Mr. Stark,” Dr. Branson began hesitantly, the first time he’d spoken so far, “just to be clear, it was HYDRA who had you originally? There was evidence at the base in Siberia of you being taken but you were impossible to track after that.”

“HYDRA’s always been good at hiding,” he mused. “The base had been abandoned but it hadn’t been forgotten. When it was disturbed, an alert was sent out. It took them a while to get there but…”

He shrugged again. Sometimes he wondered what might have happened if he’d fought them then, if his suit had been even the least bit operational. Would they have just killed him then? He doubted it. Still, it was better to focus on that than what came before. He tried not to ever think about what came before, about why he hadn’t fought them.

“And how long did they have you? Do you know where they kept you? If they’re the ones with the serum, then we need to be able to track them down and keep them from using it again.”

Tony snorted.

“Just over three months, but you don’t need to worry about the serum.” Here, he let a full smile slip across his face. “Masque didn’t like that they tried to have me killed. She said it was my moving in present.”

The doctors exchanged a glance.

“Masque took the serum?”

“She destroyed it, destroyed the whole facility where they’d been keeping me. She’s very efficient.”

“Does Masque often give you gifts?” Dr. Branson asked, at least making an effort at keeping his tone casual.

“She thinks I’m worth it. She mostly uses them to apologize, though.”

“Apologize?”

“For hurting me. She can’t help it, but she wishes she could.” Tony shrugged. “She doesn’t need to apologize for it.”

This, in particular, seemed to raise Dr. Branson’s interest.

“Why not?”

Tony knew the truth wouldn’t do him any favors but it wasn’t like he would be here forever. He just hoped Masque got them out before they could take his arms and legs. He didn’t want to lose his ability to tinker. He still hadn’t rebuilt the espresso maker the way he wanted it.

“Because I don’t mind it.”

Dr. Branson’s skin was so dark that Tony could only tell his eyebrows rose because of the crinkling of his forehead.

“You don’t mind it?”

Of course. Tony should have known he needed to elaborate. He never had that problem with Masque, but these people didn’t know him like she did.

“I don’t enjoy it,” he clarified, “but it’s not so bad when I heal as quickly as I do now. Besides, I always know when it’s coming. I like knowing. I never knew before.”

“With HYDRA?”

Tony shook his head.

“It was all pretty constant with HYDRA. I was a _mess_ by the time Masque took me in.”

Here, Dr. Branson dropped his head a bit, one hand coming up to rub over his mouth.

“I was afraid that would be the case, Mr. Stark. You and I have some things to talk about, I think. First, though, let’s get through Dr. Wiles’ questions.”

The medical doctor looked a bit thrown off but recovered himself quickly. He shot Tony a tentative smile.

“Yes. It came to my attention that some of your…distress earlier was caused by the possibility of us removing your frostbitten areas. Would it be alright if we talked about that a bit?”

Tony stiffened. If he could have, he would have pulled his afflicted limbs closer to himself.

“When are you going to take them?” he asked, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

“Well, that’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about. Remember what I told you the first time we met? You’re in control of all this. Even if those limbs were killing you, which there is no indication of, if you said you didn’t want them removed then I’d have to leave them there and let you die. Truthfully, I’ve wanted to find a way around removing them since the very beginning.”

Tony frowned. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. It made him ache to go back to one of Masque’s compounds. There, he always knew what to expect.

“What were you planning?”

He was skeptical. Not knowing what was coming had never ended well for him.

“Do you remember Helen Cho?” Dr. Wiles paused until Tony nodded. “I already reached out to her and she should actually be arriving this evening. I’m hoping to find a way to get your healing factor to work with her technology for regenerating tissue. It’s come a long way since the last time you worked with her.”

“You want to fix my limbs?”

Dr. Wiles beamed at him.

“I’m hoping to. There will be a lot of work involved and right now all the data is theoretical, but I have high hopes.”

But Tony was already shaking his head.

“I don’t-I don’t-No!”

Dr. Wiles looked startled, but Dr. Branson just looked like he was getting bad news that he’d already known was coming.

“But...why?”

“I don’t want them fixed,” he managed, a tad desperately.

“Okay, no problem,” Dr. Wiles agreed immediately, clearly trying to placate him and keep him calm. “If you don’t want to go that route then we won’t. We won’t do anything you don’t want us to do.”

Tony gasped for air, his throat feeling tight. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly before opening them again.

“I don’t want them fixed.”

Dr. Wiles was clearly bothered by his choice but nodded along anyway.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought… You’ve always been an amazing inventor, Mr. Stark. I didn’t want you to permanently lose the use of your hands.”

Tony shook his head desperately.

“I can use my hands just fine!”

The room froze.

“ _What?_ ”

.

Thor grinned as the Bifrost cleared to reveal his second home. He always appreciated the opportunity to return to Midgard. Something inside of him settled when he was upon this world. Despite the misfortunes that had brought him here on this occasion, he was still glad for it. He was even more pleased when the young Spiderman greeted him before he’d even made it more than a few steps away from the Bifrost site.

“Thor!”

“Greetings, Peter!” he bellowed, sweeping the young man up into a hug. He had grown quite fond of the web-slinger over the years. “I have heard news of the rescue of the friend Stark. Is he here?”

Immediately, he could see the change in Peter’s demeanor. He became cagier, more tentative.

“Yeah. He’s here. He’s hurt pretty badly, though.”

Thor scowled.

“Yes, I have heard of this as well. My father told me he suffers greatly for his capture. It was Madam Masque who had him?”

Peter nodded.

“She’s here, too, but it doesn’t seem to be doing us much good. Fury has been in there with her all day but mostly she’s just taunting him.”

“I see. And our teammates?”

Thor watched Peter closely and didn’t miss the way Peter flinched just the slightest bit.

“Ms. Pepper, Mr. Rhodey, and Mr. Hogan are here. You can imagine how that’s going over with Steve.”

Thor’s frown only grew.

“Yes, I can imagine indeed.”

It looked like his father was very right to have sent him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT! SIT UP AND PAY ATTENTION!
> 
> So, I doubt anyone noticed but the tags for this fic have been updated. The will be MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH before the end of this story. I will not reveal who all will be leaving us but not everyone is going to make it. It wasn't my original intention but it has become clear to me that it is the logical outcome. You have now been warned.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Wilson

“Ah, yes. You’re a therapist with the VA. Tony mentioned it.”

Sam nodded slowly. Fury had asked him to come in to see if he could get something out of Masque where the Director couldn’t, but she was hard to read, especially with that mask of hers.

“I used to be, yeah. I haven’t done that for a while.”

Masque tipped her head just a bit to one side questioningly.

“Why not?”

She seemed genuinely curious, for some unfathomable reason. She’d been generally less abrasive with him than she’d been with Fury, too. Sam figured he should cultivate that good will while he could.

“I worked in DC,” he told her, “but I couldn’t do that and help Steve find Bucky. I had to make a choice, but I made sure my people were taken care of before I left.”

Masque nodded easily.

“I know a thing or two about having to make choices,” she said. “Tony told me you were good at your job, that you cared about the people you worked with, but that you couldn’t always help them.”

Sam shifted a bit uncomfortably and knew Masque caught it. Why had Fury even asked _him_ of all people to do this? He wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing.

“I did what I could.”

She hummed thoughtfully.

“You worked with a number of patients with PTSD, I’m sure.”

Sam frowned at her. She clearly had an end-game here. He wished she’d stop beating around the bush and just get to it already.

“I did.”

“Did any of them ever get violent? Did they ever hurt someone they cared about?”

“A couple. It’s a hazard, sometimes, if they have an episode and can’t snap out of it.”

“There’s anger there, too, isn’t there? Irrational anger. I’ve looked into it.”

Sam nodded slowly.

“I’ve seen that, too. I ran a group, so I saw a bit of everything.”

“What would you tell someone who couldn’t _stop_ hurting the person they cared about? If they’d tried to stop but couldn’t. Would you tell them to leave that person?”

Sam stared at her for a moment.

“You mean the way you hurt Tony, don’t you?”

Masque stared at him for a long moment.

“I left him before, you know, the first time I knew him.”

Sam glanced at the file in front of him, but didn’t need to open it.

“When you went by Whitney Frost.”

“Before the accident,” Masque mused. “If you know about Whitney, then I’m sure you know about the accident. Did Tony let it slip? He’s bad about letting things slip when he gets upset.”

They did, in fact, know about the accident. It’d left Masque with horrific facial scars and she’d dropped off the map completely.

“Is that why you left? Because of the accident?”

Sam wasn’t sure when this suddenly turned into a therapy session, but he’d do whatever he could to get any information from Masque at all.

“The accident is when it started,” Masque said, tipping her head back and not answering Sam’s questions. “I haven’t been the same since then.”

“Something like that would change anyone,” Sam allowed.

Masque let out a little huff of air that might have been meant as a laugh. She leaned forward across the table a bit.

“You’re sweet. Would you like to know a secret?”

Dread curled in Sam’s gut, but he nodded anyway.

“Anything you’d like to tell me.”

“It wasn’t the accident that changed me. It was what came after,” she said, reaching up towards her mask only to be stopped short by the handcuffs connecting her to the table. “People treat you differently when you look different, you know. Everyone that I thought cared about me left, they _abandoned_ me, and that’s when the most surprising thing happened.”

Despite himself, Sam was curious. He had the sneaking suspicion that he was the cat about to be killed.

“What was it?”

“Tony showed up,” and it was clear in her voice that she was smiling. “He’d barely tolerated me before then, only ever for appearances and to appease his father. When everyone else turned away, he dived in to keep me afloat. I’d always been a little in love with him,” she mused, “but that’s when I knew that we would always have a connection. I could feel the sickness, though, perhaps more so than I feel it now. I knew what I was becoming and I knew what it would do to someone like Tony. He would let me drag him down if given half a chance.”

Sam was pretty sure that most of his discomfort came from knowing she was right.

“He would have tried to help you.”

“He’s Tony. Of course he would have. He would have kept trying until I bled him dry. I didn’t have the control back then that I have now,” she admitted. “I probably would have killed him.”

Same felt cold.

“Did you hurt him, back then?”

“I lashed out. He didn’t understand that it wasn’t just anger, that I _wanted_ and _needed_ to cause him pain.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

He had to ask because hearing it was tearing him up inside. He needed there to be a reason.

“I am angry,” Masque told him, “at so many of you Avengers. Your team, Pepper Potts, James Rhodes, Happy Hogan… _Steve Rogers,_ ” she spat the name, “you have all done more damage to him than I could ever do. Fury has made very clear that you think his mental state is my fault. That is how he _came_ to me, and it was no fault of HYDRA’s. Every other person in Tony’s life had turned their backs, I could not walk away a second time.”

“What, so you think you’re _saving_ him then?” Sam asked, incredulous. “By torturing him?”

“At least I do not leave him when I do,” she hissed. “I do not keep secrets from him and I would never betray him as you have. _You sent him to Siberia,_ Sam Wilson. _That_ is why I am telling you this. Believe this, if nothing else I say, the only reason I have not picked every single one of you off one by one is because Tony asked me not to. You deserve to burn. You _all_ deserve to burn.”

Sam recoiled.

“I didn’t know what would happen.”

“Of course not,” Masque sneered. “The guilt for that lies with your precious Captain, but you sent him none the less. You chose Steve Rogers over him before that, as well. Your loyalties were never with Tony. I can give you a chance to start making up for that mistake.”

Sam wanted to get up and run away. Fury would probably shoot him if he did, though.

“I won’t bring Tony to see you.”

“I don’t expect you to. At this point, I’ve all but accepted that I’ll be going to get him on my own,” she told him, sounding completely sure of herself. “That wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Then what did you have in mind?”

“I want you to tell me what upset Tony enough for him to tell you my name.”

Sam stared at her.

“That’s it?”

“There are few things that could upset him like that anymore. I want to know what you’ve done now.”

Sam glanced at the camera in the room’s corner. It wasn’t like it was exactly a secret, but he also wasn’t sure he should hand any information over to Masque. Still, there was a chance he might be able to get some information from her.

“I’m sure you’re aware of the frostbite on his limbs. He was told that they might be removed.”

Masque tensed.

“ _Do not dare._ ”

Her tone was low and dangerous, laced with threat. Sam scooted his chair back just a bit.

“He already said he doesn’t want it to happen. Unlike you, we won’t force anything on him.”

Bitter laughter filled the room.

“Too late for that,” she bit out. “You have no idea what that frostbite means to him. If you take it away from him, there will be nothing that can save you.”

Sam fought to keep his mind on the mission, on finding out what information he could.

“He said that he could still use his hands just fine, said it was a _gift_ from you.”

This seemed to settle her a bit, her anger abating.

“I commissioned the braces from Midas. You should have found them when your people took everything from my room.”

She didn’t exactly seem upset by the invasion of her space, but Sam didn’t let his guard down.

“There were no braces found.”

“They’re in a box, locked so that one Tony or I can open it. He only wears the braces when he needs them. I keep them safe the rest of the time.”

“What kind of box?”

She considered him for a long moment, clearly deciding whether or not to tell him anything at all. Sam figured it was probably a fifty-fifty chance either way.

“It is made of cherry wood,” she finally told him, “and the lid in inlaid with enchanted fire opal. Take the box to Tony. He will know how to open it.”

Sam picked up the file and stood.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“When you see him, when you take him the box,” Masque clearly didn’t think they wouldn’t take the box to Tony, “don’t forget to tell him I’m not angry. He knows he’ll be punished for giving up secrets, but he should never think I am angry over it.”

Sam shuddered. He couldn’t even imagine being left to the mercy of this woman for as long as Tony had been. The torture, he was beginning to see, was only the beginning. Masque was clearly mad off her rocker.

That didn’t keep her words from ringing in Sam’s ears, though. He _had_ been the one to tell Tony where Steve and Bucky had gone. He’d been trying to help, he’d wanted to mend things, but things would have gone so differently if he just hadn’t done that. If Tony hadn’t been there, Zemo wouldn’t have been able to drive a wedge between them. Tony wouldn’t have attacked Steve and Bucky. Tony wouldn’t have been taken. Maybe she was just trying to manipulate him, but Sam could see the truth in what she’d said and it pained him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give your thoughts unto me!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visions of sugarplums dancing through Helheim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised that zi and zir are gender neutral pronouns, at there seems to be some confusion on that front.

Vision hovered just scant millimeters above the tiled floor of the Avengers evidence locker. It was more of a warehouse than a locker, truthfully. There were stacks and stacks of boxes and shelves and miscellaneous objects. They were sectioned off by case. There were shelves in the front for evidence that only have a few pieces to be stored, but what Vision sought was towards the back, where there were whole rooms sectioned off and filled. That was where the things from Madame Masque’s base were being stored.

Zi had volunteered for the task of looking for and locating the box that supposedly contained the braces for Mr. Stark’s limbs. It was a job usually left to junior agents, but Vision liked to feel as though zi were being helpful. In truth, zi wasn’t sure how to feel at the moment. This world was confusing to zir, even with JARVIS’s programming to guide zir and all that zi had learned since zir creation. Mr. Stark’s disappearance and now reappearance had done little to defog it.

Zi passed by rows of storage before reaching zir destination and floated inside, zir eyes sweeping over everything. Things had seemed very clear to zir at first, but it seemed that changed almost instantly after Ultron’s attack was foiled. It was difficult to understand the ways of humans, to understand why Mr. Stark left his position as an Avenger in nothing but name. What had really changed except that he did not live with them? Zi’d never been able to get a straight answer.

As time had gone by, Vision came to accept it simply as what was. Zi turned zir attention towards the personal interactions of those around zir instead, finding a particular fascination with the young Wanda. Zi had once found her vehement hatred for Mr. Stark an oddity, but now it stood between them like an insurmountable barrier. They could have, perhaps, mended fences but she’d been sore about zir part in the Civil War, as it had come to be called, and Vision had begun to see just how unhealthy her mindset about things was in their absence. Zi’d attempted to converse with her on the matter, but it hadn’t gone over well.

Vision had not realized before she shouted it at zir that she had used Mr. Stark’s fear against him in order to urge him towards creating Ultron. Zi hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, still trying to puzzle out all of the meanings of it zirself. Zi wasn’t even sure whether it made the whole situation worse or better that Mr. Stark had been found alive. There had been a lot of information to sort through, following the mission, but Vision was pretty sure zi had stayed away long enough. Zi did not want to crowd or overwhelm Mr. Stark, which zi’d read could be a definite risk in this type of situation. Zi hoped that bringing the braces with zir would help ease the way.

The things from Masque’s base had been expertly sorted, as all things were when they entered into inventory. A mutant codenamed Neat Freak was in charge of inventory and he had more than earned the title. It took only moments for Vision to locate the lacquered box sitting upon a shelf next to several file boxes of items for Dr. Strange to assess upon his next visit if the Avengers’ magic specialist didn’t get to them first.

The wood was smooth and rich, looking almost warm, and the stone in the top looks as though it had many other stones inside, each catching the light a little bit differently. The stone glowed faintly in the dim light of the warehouse. In total, the box stood six inches high and a foot wide. When Vision pulled it off the shelf, zi discovered it was another foot and a half long. It was surprisingly light, though zi wasn’t sure why zi had thought it would be heavy. Perhaps it was the perception that something of so much importance would be a bit more substantial.

Vision turned away from the shelf and started floating back towards the entrance gate to check the box out of evidence. Zi would take the box to Mr. Stark. Only then would they all find out just how substantial it was. And, perhaps, Vision would finally begin to get some answers.

.

Harley startled at the knock on the door. His mom was off at work so there really wasn’t any reason for someone to show up at the house. He certainly wasn’t expecting anyone. It could be someone dropping off a package, though. Tony had sent him packages all the time and Ms. Potts still sent one every once in a while. Usually, she let him know, though… Maybe his mom had ordered something online.

He left his sandwich on the table as he crossed to the door and undid the latch. He was startled all over again to find a man standing just outside. He wore heavy clothing meant for work and had to be in his thirties, by the young teenager’s estimations. His skin was the caramelized color of someone from South America, maybe Brazil. Harley narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Who’re you?”

The man gave him a smile that was probably supposed to be winsome.

“Are you Harley Keener?” he asked, his voice carrying just a hint of an accent that Harley couldn’t quite identify.

Harley frowned and silently weighed his options, though the pause in and of itself probably tipped his hand.

“Depends on who’s askin’,” he said instead.

“You wouldn’t know me, or my employer, but she has something she’d like to offer you. I was sent to see if you’d be interested. If you’re not, I walk away.”

Because that answered absolutely any of his questions at all.

“And if I _am_ interested in this mysterious offer that you still haven’t told me _anything_ about?”

This time, the man’s grin seemed a bit more real.

“Then I make it happen. I’d rather not talk about it out here, though. Mind if I come in?”

Harley wasn’t sure exactly who the man was worried about being overheard by in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, but he stood aside and let the guy in anyway. It probably wasn’t exactly the smartest idea ever, but hey, it’d worked out well when he let Tony stay.

“Can I get a name at least? Of you _and_ your employer, preferably. I don’t particularly give a damn if you think I haven’t heard of you or not.”

The man looked around the small room with interest, holding up a finger in Harley’s direction before pulling a slim, black device out of his pocket, pressing a button on it, and setting it down on the table.

“There we go. That’ll jam any bugs that might be around so we’ll be able to speak a bit more freely,” he said as it showing up at people’s doors randomly for clandestine conversations was a completely normal occurrence. “I’ll have to ask you to forgive my manners, but one can never be too careful. My name is Paul. I work for a woman named Whitney Frost.”

God, this was like pulling teeth.

“Okaaay,” Harley drew out. “So what’s your super mysterious offer? I have a sandwich to get back to.”

“I’m sure you’ll find this a bit more important,” the man said. “How would you like to see Tony Stark again?”

Harley tensed, anger flooding through him. If this was some bastard’s idea of a sick joke, he was gonna find out who they were and _riddle_ every electronic they had with viruses. _Fuck_ them.

“He’s dead,” he bit out.

“On the contrary, Mr. Stark is very much alive. He’s currently at the Avengers Headquarters in the care of their medical staff. Has no one been in contact with you about it?”

No, nobody had been in fucking contact with him. Nobody had been in contact with him for a couple months. It wasn’t like they talked all the time but _shit_ , if Tony was really alive…

“Are you offering to take me there?”

“I have a car and a private jet waiting. Mr. Stark continues to count you among the most important people in his life. We want to make sure you can see each other again… If that’s what you’d like.”

Harley stared at him for a long moment.

“I need to make a call,” he said finally. He’d call Ms. Potts, he decided. “If it confirms your story, then I’ll come with you. If it doesn’t, then you should know I have some pretty nasty toys lying about and I’m not afraid to use them.”

The man smiles one last time, vicious.

“I can see why Mr. Stark likes you so much. Make whatever calls you think are necessary. Just… perhaps do not mention my employer. It’d be for the best.”

Because that wasn’t suspicious at all. Good God, what was Harley getting himself into?

.

Hela’s composure nearly failed her, her steps quickening but not quite turning into a jog as she hurried from her throne room and down the steps of her palace. Her courtyard, the reception area for souls crossing over into death, was flooded with the departed. The crowded and pressed against each other, more souls entering through her gates before the ones already present could be processed. One of the Valkyrie met her at the bottom of the stairs, a battle-hardened and scarred woman from the ancient days of Vanaheim when Warrior Queens ruled land and sea.

Something was terribly wrong.

“We’ve expanded the perimeter,” Kalbisa informed her, cutting straight to the heart of the matter, “but they keep coming through. It began not ten minutes past yet already the new arrivals number in the hundreds of thousands.”

The count was staggering. Hundreds of thousands of souls passed through Hela’s gates on any given day but never in a matter of minutes. Not even in times of war were such numbers seen. Hela held her antlered head high as she waded into their midst, already reaching out for those around her and sending them where they needed to go. It had been centuries since she’d had to do such things herself.

“Is there any sign of stopping?” she asked.

Kalbisa’s grim expression told her everything before the woman was even able to open her mouth.

“No, My Queen, and they all appear to be Wongordulish.”

Hela had feared as much. Her gaze swept over the press of the souls in her courtyard. Ferrymen were scattered about, ships filled to the brim or loading up the next round of passengers. She knew without having to ask that none of those here would pass forth into Valhalla. Few were warriors and none had passed in battle.

“It is genocide,” she intoned dully. Oh, but it had been so long since she had felt horror so true that it seemed to seep into her very bones. The blacked skin that covered half of her body felt tight with the sensation of such overwhelming death. “It will not be long before the rest of their brethren join us here.”

Billions. _Billions_ of slaughtered souls would already be on their way, the journey bottlenecked by those who had already arrived. If she did not act quickly, they would be snatched away into nothingness.

“What would you have us do, My Queen?”

Hela was already turning back to the steps of her palace.

“Call the others. I will need your strength. I must open myself as a conduit, as Death’s Hand, if we are to accommodate them all so quickly. Already, I fear, some may slip through my fingers.”

Kalbisa bowed.

“It will be done. There is not a one among our ranks who wouldn’t lend you every last scrap of our strength.”

Hela graced her with the faintest of smiles.

“Of this, I have no doubt. Now hurry. I must begin.”

One sharp, final nod before fiery wings sprouted from Kalbisa’s back, wrapping around her and spiriting her away. Hela took a steadying breath and gestured with her living hand to conjure up a simplified version of her throne that lay inside. Her heart was heavy as she sank into it. So many lives wasted. She would get to the bottom of this, she swore.

Opening herself up to so many souls in order to sort them was akin to taking in a hurricane that spanned an entire realm. Hela’s body seized and spasmed as the world fell away. Whispers and snatches for every life swept past her in a whirlwind blur. There was no way to set one apart from the other. There was no way to even tell what was herself and what wasn’t. There was no division between where she ended and the souls began. That was what it was to act as a conduit, as Death’s Hand. It was to be one with the dead.

She wasn’t aware of when her Valkyries arrived, only of when they joined with her and shared their strength. Hela could not even spare enough thought to hope it would be enough. It _had_ to be enough.  This was wrong, so very wrong. She had to make it alright. It was her duty. Through the torrential rush, there was only one thought that remained clear, shrieked from every soul that passed through her.

_Thanos._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added an estimated chapter count, some of you may notice. Please do not assume it to be accurate. Also, TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Piper picks a peck of pickled Peppers. And Steve.

Pepper almost didn’t pick up the phone, but Dr. Cho’s flight had been delayed and there was really nothing else for her to do while sitting in the back of Happy’s car waiting for the other’s arrival. It was Harley, though, and the caller ID brought with it the startling realization that Pepper hadn’t told the young man about Tony’s retrieval yet. She almost didn’t want to, given the condition Tony was in. Steeling herself, Pepper answered the call.

“Harley,” she greeted, aiming for bright but not quite making it, “how are you?”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line and the muffled sound of what might have been a door shutting.

“Is Tony alive?”

That was it, no lead-up, just straight for the jugular. Pepper stiffened in her seat.

“Where did you hear that? Did Rhodey call you?” He must have, him or Peter. Pepper kept right on going without waiting for Harley to answer the question. “Listen, Harley, the situation is complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it,” the teenager snapped. “Is he okay? You guys are at the Avengers HQ, right? I’m on my way.”

“What? No, Harley! You should stay where you are.”

The sounds of rummaging she’d just barely been able to pick up in the background came to an abrupt halt.

“Why?”

Pepper hesitated, but it wasn’t like there was any way for her to get out of telling him in the end. He’d find out eventually.

“Tony’s hurt,” she relented. “I don’t know how much they told you but it isn’t good. It’s not life threatening but… he’s having a difficult time adjusting.”

That was a nice way to put it, because she wasn’t about to tell the young boy Tony had bonded with that his mentor kept having to be sedated over panic attacks and there was a good chance he’d lose all four limbs.

“I should be there,” Harley groused.

“There’s nothing you can do here,” Pepper informed him, not unkindly. “Just, stay home, Harley. I’ll make sure you’re kept updated on what’s happening with Tony. As soon as he’s feeling a bit better, you’ll be the first to know.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line and Pepper sincerely hoped Harley just did what she said. They weren’t exactly close and he was a teenager, after all. Pepper could just imagine him up and deciding to hitchhike across the country to get to them.

“I’ve got another question for you,” Harley finally said, his volume dropping like he wanted to keep quiet. “Have you ever heard of someone named Whitney Frost?”

Pepper’s brow pinched and she blinked. That’d come straight out of left field.

“No, why?”

“No reason,” Harley said, a little too quickly. “Just curious, was all. Anyway, I’ll talk to you later. Bye!”

The line went dead and Pepper heaved a sigh. At least Harley wasn’t the subtle type. She keyed across her phone to call his mother, only for her phone to light up again with Peter’s number. She answered immediately.

“Has something happened with Tony?”

At this point, that was her greatest fear.

“I was just in with him, he’s fine,” Peter soothed. “He’s sleeping now. We’re just waiting for Vision to bring the braces. Apparently, they actually do exist. Frost told Sam about them this morning during the interrogation. I guess Fury was right to send him in.”

Pepper stiffened, a feeling of cold dread crawling up her spine.

“Frost?”

“Yeah, Whitney Frost. It’s Madame Masque’s real name. Tony let her first name slip during his psych eval and then the techs were able to track her down using a picture from her room at the base. Didn’t you know?”

No, she didn’t know, because she’d been too busy asking a million and one questions about Tony’s mental state and getting run-around answers. She cursed colorfully, startling Happy.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” she said, hanging up without waiting.

She thumbed over to Harley’s number and called back, her knee jiggling nervously.

“Come on, come on, come on,” she chanted as the phone continued to ring. “Pick up, Harley, come on!”

The call went to voicemail.

.

Peter lowered the phone slowly from his ear, giving it an odd look. He could feel Whistle’s eyes on him.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Not sure,” he admitted. “I don’t think so. Ms. Pepper didn’t know about Frost’s real name. She got off the phone really quick after I mentioned it.”

Whistle frowned.

“How odd. She say anything?”

“Just that she’d have to call me back.”

The deceptively wispish girl beside him shrugged.

“Then I guess you’ll find out when she does,” she said, leaning over to nudge his shoulder. “You can’t control everything, Peter. You need to remember that.”

The web-slinger snorted.

“So you keep reminding me,” he huffed, his gaze sliding back to Mr. Stark’s closed door. “I just… I wish there were something more I could _do._ ”

“I’m not sure there’s anything you _can_ do,” Whistle confided, leaning closer and making Peter take the bulk of her weight, which wouldn’t be much even to someone without enhanced strength. “This isn’t your fight, or Ms. Potts’s or the Captain’s. It’s Mr. Stark’s fight. He’s the one who has to get back up from it.”

Peter frowned at her.

“That doesn’t mean he has to do it on his own.”

“It also doesn’t mean that you or anyone else can do it _for_ him. Look, Vision will be back any minute,” she said with a shrug. “Maybe the braces will help. Having full function back might go a long way for keeping him calm.”

Peter could see that, he supposed. He knew being strapped to a bed would drive _him_ crazy.

“Do you think they’ll let him? I mean, the restraints are so he doesn’t hurt himself when he freaks out and that’s when he _doesn’t_ have full control.”

Whistle grinned at him.

“We’re in a building that contains some a group of the greatest superheroes in the world. I’m sure we can figure out something. Maybe we take shifts staying with him. Barnes’d volunteer in a heartbeat and I’m betting he’s not the only one,” she said, her grin turning salacious. “Can you just imagine Widow wrapped around him like an octopus to keep him in place?”

Peter ducked away from her.

“No! I do _not_ need to hear about any more of your Black Widow fantasies! I refuse to participate!”

He clapped his hands over his ears as Whistle threw her blond head back and laughed. She really was the absolute worst. Peter loved her for it.

.

Fury’s office was starting to feel pretty cramped with so many people inside of it. Steve leaned up against one wall and eyed the others carefully. Dr. Branson and Dr. Wiles were there, sitting in the chairs before Fury’s desk while the Director himself sat behind it. Sam hovered near the door, looking uncomfortable, and Bruce was loitering near a potted plant, inspecting the leaves to avoid looking at the other men in the room. Thor stood behind Fury, his back to the rest of the room and gazing out the window. T’Challa had been by briefly but had taken one look around the room before turning around and leaving.

“I suppose we should begin, then,” Fury intoned, leaning back in his chair and nearly bumping into Thor as the aesir turned. “We need to come to a consensus about how to handle Stark. We’ve been playing catch up this entire time. We need to get out ahead of this whole thing.”

He shifted his gaze to focus on Dr. Branson, making it obvious that he should say his piece.

“Mr. Stark is not well,” the doctor began, and Steve felt something in his chest tighten. “I had anticipated a certain level of psychological ramification due to all that he has been through in the last three years, and suspected more given his previous lifestyle, but it seems that Mr. Stark’s difficulties exceed every one of my expectations. He is… a tragically broken individual.”

Thor frowned, his face expressing all that Steve felt.

“What can be done to help our friend, healer?”

Dr. Branson dragged a palm over his closely shaved head and sighed.

“I don’t know just yet. At the very least, it is going to take years for him to recover, if he ever does.”

Steve stepped away from the wall. With his arms folded across his chest, he knew he cut an imposing figure.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

Bruce had half-turned to look at the rest of them but Steve had eyes only for the doctor. Tony had to recover from his. He _had_ to. He’d gotten up from everything else the world had thrown at him. He couldn’t let this be what took him down.

“When a soldier gets shot or injured in battle,” Dr. Branson explained, “there is a physical wound that can be seen and treated. Psychological wounds are bit trickier because there’s nothing to see, but they often work similarly. Think of it like this, a soldier shot in the shoulder experiences a great amount of trauma to the area. Scar tissue builds up to close the wound and sometimes this costs the soldier part or all of the limb’s functionality. Mr. Stark’s psychological wounds are progressing much in that same way.

“He has fresh wounds from his recent captivity, but I fear they overlay older wounds that never quite healed the right way or all the way. It’s is as if that soldier that got shot in the shoulder let it heal up but didn’t follow through with physical therapy only to be shot in that same shoulder again. Whatever damage was done the first time around would be expounded tenfold, easily,” he said, glancing at Dr. Wiles. “Would you agree?”

Dr. Wiles nodded, leaving Steve’s mind whirling. Fury scowled and drummed his fingers on the surface of his desk once.

“Well, if you need a preexisting psychological injury, you’d have plenty to choose from with Stark.”

“He’s had panic attacks for a while,” Bruce contributed, “and nightmares. It was especially bad after New York and then only got worse after the whole thing with the Mandarin. He tried to talk to me about it a couple times but… I don’t think I was very helpful. I’m not that kind of doctor.”

Steve straightened, startled. He hadn’t known that. Tony had _panic attacks?_ Dr. Branson was frowning as he turned toward Bruce.

“What can you tell me? Any details would help. Tony made a comment about how he’s been scared for a long time and how he at least knew when the pain was coming when he was with Masque.”

Bruce winced and shied away again.

“I don’t know what I’d be able to tell you. It’s not really my area…”

“Please, Bruce,” Steve said, stepping forward again and reaching out for the other man only to draw his hands back when Bruce flinched, “like the doctor said, anything you can tell us.”

“You might not even realize the significance of what was said,” Dr. Branson supplied, “but it could reveal something vital. Mr. Stark has always been a master at keeping things hidden that he does not want the world to know and that means we are working at a severe disadvantage.”

Fury picked up his mobile from the top of his desk and typed away at the screen rapidly.

“I’ve asked Agent Romanov to join us,” he informed the room. “She may have some insights of her own.”

Good. That was good. That was progress.

“Whatever it is,” Steve said with conviction, “we’ll get to the bottom of it and fix this. For Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see we're actually getting some plot movement now. Hopefully I can make it keep going without having to stop every five seconds for another character who wants to give his/her introspective view of the situation. *sigh* Somebody control these people!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky through and through

Bucky resisted the urge to sigh when Parker stiffened at his approach. The kid was on a hairpin trigger, that was for sure. Bucky couldn’t exactly blame him for being cautious, really, but it could be more than a little irritating. To be fair, most of the Avengers acted like Bucky was Steve’s watchdog and tiptoed around him because of it. Bucky would rather they tiptoed because of his Winter Soldier past. Whistle, at least, seemed not to care whether he reported to Steve or not.

“I guess you heard,” she greeted. “Vision’s gone to get the box. We’ll see what happens when he gets back. You sticking around for it?”

Bucky nodded solemnly.

“Where are Rhodes, Hogan, and Potts?”

They should be here. The three had been hovering near-constantly since Tony had been brought back. It was odd that they weren’t already present.

“Mr. Rhodey tricked Mr. Happy and Ms. Pepper into going to the airport to pick up Dr. Cho so Dr. Banner, Fury, Cap, and the others could discuss Mr. Stark’s situation and what the options are,” Parker explained, looking pained.

Bucky was surprised.

“Potts may actually kill him when she gets back and finds out. Why would Rhodes do that?”

Parker looked put out and avoided his gaze. Whistle just rolled her eyes.

“Funny you should ask, because he mentioned you had something to do with it.”

Bucky was a bit taken-aback. Did that mean some of what he’d said in his little rant yesterday had actually sunk in? Was Rhodes really going to start trying to work with them instead of against them and get nothing done?

“That’s… unexpected. Good, but unexpected.”

Whistle shrugged.

“Right now he’s apparently gone to talk to Masque himself, or at least stare at her through the observation window like he’s done every other time he’s gone to ‘talk’ to her so far.”

She looked exactly as unimpressed as she sounded.

“Maybe he’ll learn something new,” Bucky said.

He figured they’d definitely be about to learn something new from Tony himself. This whole thing with the braces changed a lot. Of course, it seemed like every time they turned around they were having to reassess things. Tony was giving them bread crumbs, piece by piece, and they were still as lost as ever.

“Maybe,” Parker said sullenly.

They fell into silence until Vision returned from the evidence warehouse. It didn’t take long. For all that zi was a bit of an odd one, Bucky had to admit that zi was efficient. In zir hands was the wooden box Bucky had noticed back in Masque’s chambers before he’d found Tony in the wardrobe. Bucky moved to open the door to Tony’s room. The man was asleep on the bed, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Parker crossed over to his bedside and laid a hand on one of his shoulders, shaking gently.

“Mr. Stark? It’s time to wake up, Mr. Stark.”

Tony shifted a bit, blinking his eyes blearily.

“Peter,” he slurred a bit, clearly groggy.

Parker smiled at him. It was a smile he’d never aimed Bucky’s way, much less Steve or any of the other original Avengers.

“Yeah, it’s me. How’re you feeling? You okay to be up for a bit?”

Tony shifted like he was going to sit up, but the restraints stopped him. Bucky stepped up to start undoing the ones around his wrists.

“Here, we can take these off.”

Tony rolled his head to look at him.

“You’re back again,” he observed, seeming a bit nonplussed.

Bucky offered him a crooked grin.

“I did say you should expect to see a good bit of me. I owe you a lot, whether or not you seem to think so.”

That’d been an interesting conversation. Bucky felt like he owed the genius for a great many things, for killing his parents, for causing the rift between him and Steve, for being part of why he was left in Siberia and HYDRA was able to get their hands on him. Tony had seemed bewildered by the very concept, confused to the point that Bucky had finally just let it drop. Just because they didn’t talk about it didn’t mean that Bucky wasn’t still going to work to make up that debt, though.

For now, Tony was giving him an odd look but said nothing on the subject. Across the bed, Parker’s expression was a bit more assessing, like he was trying to figure out how this behavior fit in with his view of Bucky. Let him wonder, Bucky decided. It was probably good if he was kept guessing.

“Mr. Stark,” Vision broke in, drifting over to Tony’s feet, “we have brought something for you.”

It was amazing how Tony’s face lit up upon seeing the box in Vision’s hands.

“You brought my braces!” he exclaimed excitedly, shuffling himself up into a sitting position. He gestured with his dead arms towards his lap. “Put it here. I’ll open it.”

Bucky threw out an arm to tell Vision to wait.

“Hold on,” he said, his chest suddenly a bit tight. “This isn’t going to hurt you, right?”

He’d learned quickly that Tony wouldn’t volunteer that information. He had to be asked directly. As if to prove his point, the genius wavered.

“No,” he said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Tony.”

The genius fidgeted.

“It needs blood,” he acquiesced, “my blood. But not much! That’s just part of how it confirms it’s me or Whitney.”

His eyes were pleading, begging them to let him still open the box. Bucky knew he wouldn’t protest if they took it away again, though. It pained Bucky to see it. He drew his hand back so Vision could set the box in Tony’s lap.

“Should we draw some with a needle?” he asked instead. “Would that make it easier for you?”

Tony shook his head and sank his teeth into his bottom lip, smearing the blood between them.

“The serum will heal it in just a couple of minutes,” he said.

Then he leaned down and pressed his lips to the glowing stone in the lid of the box. It glowed brighter for a moment before dimming completely. A quiet ‘pop’ could be heard before Tony drew back and the lid popped open just the tiniest bit. Tony gave a bloody grin as he used his arms to awkwardly maneuver the box open. Inside was what looked like a heap of golden, metal brackets. There was no form or shape to them, as Bucky had seen with other braces. Tony seemed unperturbed, though.

He fumbled trying to get the metal out of the box for a moment before both Parker and Bucky jumped forward to help him. There was a moment of confusion where they both tried to get out of each other’s way and then Bucky backed off and let Parker remove the metal bundles from the box. Tony grinned at both of them. Despite the grisliness of the act, considering the blood and all, the true joy he was radiating couldn’t be hidden. Bucky couldn’t help but smile back at him. Vision picked up the box again so Parker could place the metal on Tony’s lap.

“So what now?” Bucky asked.

“Just gotta find the activation switch,” Tony said with a grin. “They’re smart metals,” as if that explained anything at all.

He was batting aside pieces of metal gently with the sides of his hands. It was painful to watch, and didn’t look at all natural, but Tony didn’t seem bothered by it. Bucky was struck by the sudden discomforting thought that he was probably used to it by now. This was how he lived. Unless he wore the braces most of the time when he was with Masque? He hadn’t been wearing them when Bucky had found him.

Tony’s cry of triumph was followed by him pinning a particular piece of metal between his decayed wrists and lifting it out of the pile. Bucky noticed that one end of it was tipped with red, the same red that had been signature to Tony’s Iron Man suit. Tony held that section up to his lips and pressed the blood to it just as he had to the top of the box. There was another clicking noise, this time more mechanical, and then the pile of metal gave a little shiver before beginning to move.

Bucky watched in amazement as metal curled and snapped into place along Tony’s forearms, following the bones of his hands and curling around his fingers. The braces for his legs followed a similar pattern, the metal looking almost decorative as it moved into place. Tony held still while the metal settled against his body and only stirred once the last piece snapped in. Then he flexed his fingers, moving on to rotating his wrists and then bending his elbows back and forth. He repeated the process with his legs, the rest of the occupants of the room staring. His grin was ecstatic.

“Holy shit,” Whistle whispered, expressing what all of them were likely feeling.

“Fascinating,” Vision agreed, zir tone more intrigued than truly shocked. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“They work mostly through magnets,” Tony said with a grin, shuffling around a bit on the bed. “Can I get up?”

The Tony Stark Steve told so many stories about never would have asked for permission. Bucky was going to have to make sure Steve remembered that this wasn’t the same person, not anymore.

“Of course,” he said quickly, moving out of the way and reaching toward Tony to help him along. It’d been a little while since he’d been on his own feet, after all. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to even think about how many people will come after my hide if something happens to you.”

Tony sobered quickly, nodding with complete seriousness.

“Whitney wouldn’t be happy.”

That wasn’t at all who Bucky had been talking about, but he pressed his lips together to keep from saying anything about it. Luckily, no one else made a comment about it, either.

“I think a walk would do you some good,” Parker said, thankfully filling the empty silence. “Let’s get you moving.”

Tony didn’t seem to notice any tension, and let Parker and Bucky help him to his feet. He wobbled for a moment before finding his balance and steadying himself. Parker and Bucky both hovered nervously as if they would need to grab him at any moment. Tony ignored them valiantly, taking a few shuffled steps forward and not seeming bothered at all about the open back of his hospital gown. At least his sense of shame hadn’t changed.

“God, this feels good,” Tony enthused, seeming surer of himself the more he moved. The difference was astonishing. “It’s been a little while since I’ve worn the braces.”

Bucky felt sick to his stomach.

“You can wear them as much as you’d like from now on,” he assured. He’d make damn sure of it.

Tony gave him an odd look.

“I can always wear them as often as I’d like,” he said. “Sometimes I just want to take a break. It’s peaceful.”

Yeah, Tony had definitely changed a lot.

“Do you want to get out of this room?” Parker offered, and Tony’s face lit up even more.

“Can I go outside?” he asked tentatively, as if he expected them to tell him no but couldn’t resist asking anyway.

Fuck that. He’d been through enough.

“You can go wherever you want,” Bucky promised him. “We’ll start with outside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Tony gets to go on a walk! For those of you concerned about what's happening with Harley, we'll get to that in the next chapter! I'm also about to churn out the next chapter of Sign Here. Great news for those of you who read it! Downside is that, since the chapters are longer, they take longer to write. I'll be back as soon as I can!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations

Rhodey pounded a fist against the door to Fury’s office, waiting impatiently as there was shuffling on the other side before the door opened. Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ How had it come to this? The door opened to show Rogers’s mug, putting Rhodey’s already-bad mood even darker.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said without preamble, wheeling his chair forward and forcing Rogers back.

There wasn’t much room in Fury’s office, but it didn’t much matter. Fury stood from behind his desk.

“What’s wrong now? Is it Stark?”

“It’s Harley. It looks like Masque kidnapped him. He called Pepper to ask if she’d heard of someone named Whitney Frost and now he won’t answer her calls and he wasn’t at the house when his mom went looking for him.”

There was a stir through the room.

“Why would she take Harley, though?” Rogers asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure it does,” Bruce cut in. “Harley is important to Tony and by now we know she and Tony talked a lot. She knows Harley is too young to be here. He’d be unguarded and easy to take. Plus he’s a kid. She’s going to use him for leverage.”

Thor rumbled his displeasure.

“It is a low soul indeed who would use a child. This Masque must truly have no honor.”

“I can go to the interrogation room, if you’d like,” Romanov offered Fury from where she stood just to his side. “She hasn’t talked much, but each time she reveals something new. I may be able to get something from her.”

“No,” Rogers cut her off, anger lining every edge. “I’ll talk to her. It’s time to end this.”

He probably would have stomped right out if Rhodey weren’t planted in the doorway.

“And what exactly are you planning to do?” he challenged. “Look, I get that you’re pissed off. We’re _all_ pissed off. Harley’s _life_ is on the line, though. We’ve got to be careful about this.”

“We also can’t afford to just sit around waiting! Masque needs to pay for what she’s done.”

“No one’s suggesting that, Captain,” Fury cut in, clearly trying to diffuse the situation. “At the moment, though, we don’t know what Masque is capable of. Sending in Agent Romanov is the best choice available to us right now. This is what she _does_ , Captain. You know that.”

Steve ground his teeth together, but managed a jerky nod.

“Do what needs to be done,” he instructed.

Natasha gave him a sharp nod right back.

“I’ve never done anything less.”

.

..

…

..

.

Tony tilted his head back to feel the warm sun on his face. The gentle breeze ruffled his hair and for a moment, with his eyes closed, he could almost pretend that he was at peace. He’d always found it strange when people did that sort of thing in movies or on TV, but he supposed he could understand it a bit better now. There _was_ peace, but reality never stayed away longer than a second or two. It was always still there, waiting for you when you opened your eyes again.

Peter and Barnes were who waited for Tony when he opened his eyes. They wore twin expressions of concern and hovered as if he might topple over at any moment. If he turned his head a bit, he would spot Vision and the small girl whose name he didn’t know.

“This is nice,” he commented, since they all seemed to be waiting for him to say something.

What exactly were they expecting? It wasn’t like he would somehow magically be cured by the grass beneath his feet, not unless the lawn crew had gotten really out of hand since he’d hired them. Peter sent him a little, hopeful smile.

“You can come out here any time you want, then. Or somewhere else. It’s really whatever you want.”

Tony nodded, but didn’t return his smile. He knew that wasn’t true. It was _never_ whatever Tony wanted. More often than not, it was the opposite. He swayed slightly in the breeze and Barnes honest to God reached out to steady him. The soldier had been acting so strangely since Tony had come here.

“How long can I stay here?” he asked, because he would rather know so he could prepare for the loss.

Peter and Barnes exchanged glances.

“Not sure,” Barnes finally answered him. “Your docs are talking to Fury at the moment. I don’t know if they’ll have any questions for you afterwards or if they’ll want to run any tests.”

Tony nodded easily. He would just stay prepared. That was fine. He was used to doing that.

“I don’t think I ever appreciated nature like this, before,” he admitted.

Barnes, Peter, and the new girl tensed. Vision just looked on as though zi were observing the most fascinating interaction. Maybe it was, to zir. Tony marveled for a moment at just how much Vision must have learned in the past three years. Zir’d always had a thirst for knowledge.

“From what I understand,” zi said, “that’s perfectly normal. Many individuals who have gone through captivity come out of it with a newfound appreciation for their surroundings. I suspect as well, if I may, that you never had much time to just appreciate nature, Mr. Stark.”

“Not really, no,” he responded mildly.

“Ms. Pepper says you were pretty much always in your lab,” Peter piped up. “She told me a bunch of stories about how she used to have to pry you out of there for meetings or functions.”

The tension in the air eased somewhat at his words.

“They’re probably all true. I liked my lab.”

“I don’t blame you,” said the new girl. “You always made _wicked_ stuff. I was on the phone with Mechanist last night. She’s _so_ jealous that you’re here.”

Tony didn’t know who that was, but nodded along anyway. The group as a whole seemed a lot happier now. That was good, right? If they were happy then they wouldn’t hurt him quite as badly.

“Whitney built a lab for me,” he told them. “I can make whatever I want there.”

Suddenly, the tension was back. Tony didn’t know what he’d said wrong.

“She had you build things?” Barnes asked severely.

Tony flinched away.

“It was just so I could play,” he tried to explain. “I get bored when I don’t have anything to do. My brain goes a little haywire. I _need_ to build things.”

Barnes and Peter were exchanging looks again. Tony felt a lot like running, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He’d never be able to get away from them. He just hoped Whitney would decide it was time to leave soon. He wanted to go home.

“What… kinds of things did you build, exactly?” Peter prompted gently.

Maybe they had noticed him getting skittish. Tony shrugged at them.

“I messed around with some water filtration systems, developed some more economized pumps for getting water out of the ground in places like rural Africa. I’ve been working on a better electric car for the last couple of months. Whitney has some contacts in the automobile industry so I might be able to get them into circulation if I can get it where I want it to. Oh! And I’ve been trying to figure out a way to neutralize radiation, like from nuclear weapons. It wouldn’t reverse any of the effects of the initial attacks, of course, but it could still help a lot. I don’t know. It’s not my usual area but I just kind of stumbled into it one day.”

“No weapons?” Barnes asked pointedly.

Tony gave him a confused look.

“No, I-I don’t make weapons anymore.”

That must have been what had upset them. They thought he was making weapons again, causing _death_ again. But no. Tony was done with that. He didn’t want to ever do that again.

.

..

…

..

.

Angela was on the training grounds with Sera when it happened. There was a burst of fire and the image of a magnificent bird rising into the air before the flames vanished, leaving behind a woman even taller than Angela herself. Half of her was soft, golden skin, while the other half was dark and hard as leather. Antlers rose from the woman’s temples. There was only one person this could be.

“Queen Hela,” she greeted formally. “What brings you to Heven?”

The queen’s cold gaze lingered upon her for a moment before the other spoke.

“War is coming, Angel. We must prepare to meet with it.”

Angela’s tails flicked behind her.

“Heven is always prepared for war.”

“Not a war like this one. Heven shall fall if nothing is done, just like others have fallen already.”

Sera sidled up at Angela’s back.

“Heven will not fall easily,” she said. “Heven will stand where others fail.”

Hela turned her head slowly to give the woman a severe look.

“Those who do not know what they speak of should keep their mouths shut. Calamity approaches. It will not be stopped. _All_ will fall.”

Angela squeezed her fingers around the hilt of her sword.

“You mean to call upon the seven, then.”

Hela returned her gaze to the redhead.

“The Mad Titan has been gifted,” she stated simply. “There is only one who can take that away.”

“And only one who can ask for it.”

“But it will take all of us to make the contact.”

Angela pressed her lips together, not quite frowning. Sera was coiled tense beside her. The Mad Titan was not someone even Heven could scoff at.

“What of the others, then?” she asked. “What do they say?”

“You are the first I have approached,” the great queen admitted, “but there is little time to waste. There is no other way.”

Angela nodded.

“The twins will be happy to take part,” she offered, almost as a gesture of peace after being difficult. “They will take any excuse to be a part.”

“And Korma will resist. Yes, I know. There will be little surprises among us.”

“Among us six, perhaps… What would you have me do?”

“Travel to Muspelheim, the realm where the twins reside. Abaddon and Apollyon have always liked you best.”

“And you? What do you plan to do?”

Hela gazed at her for a long moment.

“I will speak to Korma, show her what she needs to see in order to be convinced. I have little doubt that Imra will find us on his own.”

Angela nodded. She did not ask about their missing piece, their seventh. That would be something they had to handle together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rides through town on my trusty steed*
> 
> The plot is coming! The plot is coming!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter, Natasha, and Hela

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I haven't updated this since October. My apologies. I was mostly working on the IronWinter Holiday Exchange and finishing up the last of Arbitrary Life. I am now down to just five on-going fics! Just two away from my goal! Woohoo!

The hairs on the back of Peter’s neck stood on end a split second before he whipped around to see T’Challa striding across the grass towards them. He wasn’t hurrying, per se, but he was definitely giving off a purposeful aura and his expression said he wasn’t looking to mess around. Peter winced. He really hoped they weren’t about to get in huge trouble for letting Mr. Stark outdoors. Not that he regretted it. He didn’t. He just also didn’t want to get in trouble for it. He was already in hot water with his aunt for taking off from college for the week.

“We have a problem,” the king said seriously as soon as he drew close enough. “Get back inside. Now.”

Peter exchanged a glance with Whistle, but immediately obeyed. Mr. Stark looked down at the ground as he trailed along with them, like a child who had been caught doing something naughty and knew they were going to get a timeout. Peter kept an eye on him as Barnes sidled up beside the genius.

“Hey,” Barnes started lowly, “you alright?”

Mr. Stark didn’t even look up at him.

“I’m sorry,” the genius mumbled.

Barnes blinked in surprise.

“Why?”

Peter didn’t need enhanced senses to see the way Mr. Stark flinched.

“Because I’ve been bad. I did something I wasn’t supposed to do, asking to go outside, and now you’re going to be punished for it. I was greedy. I’m always too greedy. I can never just be _satisfied_ -“

“Woah, woah, woah! Pump your brakes there,” Barnes soothed. “You’re not in trouble and neither are we, okay? Nobody’s gonna be punished.”

“But King T’Challa-“

“Said that something had happened. I don’t know what, but that’s why we’re going back inside. Tell you what, as soon as we’re able, I’ll bring you right back out. We just gotta deal with this first, probably just a call to Assemble or something.”

Ahead of them, T’Challa glanced over his shoulder at them.

“I’m afraid not, Sergeant Barnes, but it is a threat nonetheless. For the record, though, as you Americans say, you are right about one thing. None of you are in any trouble for bringing Mr. Stark outside, least of all with me. My people have many beliefs about contact with nature being essential to recovery.”

Peter grinned and jogged the few steps it took to draw level with Mr. Stark.

“See? No problems. You did nothing wrong.”

On the genius’s other side, Barnes was frowning.

“What’s the threat, exactly?”

T’Challa stalled by holding the door to the facility open for them to all file through. There was a tension around his eyes that Peter had rarely seen before and it did little to settle the young man’s nerves. He glanced at Mr. Stark and Peter instinctively drew closer to the man.

“Whatever it is, he can hear it.”

The king seemed to consider this for a moment.

“It is not yet common knowledge, but it will be soon enough. It appears Madame Masque has kidnapped the young Harley Keener. We’re trying to get more information but he’s been unreachable for a few hours since he spoke to Ms. Potts and mentioned the name Whitney Frost. Agents have been dispatched to his home to see what they can find out and provide protection for the boy’s mother. Natasha is in with Masque now, continuing the interrogation.”

“Whitney wouldn’t do that,” Mr. Stark said before any of the rest of them could even react. “You’re wrong.”

He sounded so _certain._

“Uh, I hate to break it to you, Mr. Stark,” Whistle said, not unkindly, “but your girlfriend is twelve kinds of crazy. She’s also a supervillain. This stuff is pretty much their M.O.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he protested, though it was with a tone of resignation, like he already knew what he said wouldn’t matter. “Whitney would never hurt Harley.”

T’Challa reached out to place a hand comfortingly on the genius’s shoulder, ignoring Mr. Stark’s minute flinch at the gesture right before it connected. God, Masque had really done a number on him.

“I hope you are right,” the king intoned, “for all of our sakes.”

.

“This is a new low for you,” Natasha remarked as she settled in across the table from Masque. “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but it’s been a long time since I’ve expected anything but the worst from you.”

Masque let out an amused huff of air.

“Well I _am_ surprised,” she replied. “I honestly hadn’t expected your little troupe to even notice.”

Natasha let anger and disgust creep into her expression.

“You kidnapped a _child._ Of course we noticed.”

Masque leaned back in her chair, body language as relaxed as ever.

“How could I have done it? I’ve been here the entire time.”

“Don’t play games with me, Masque.”

The villain chuckled.

“But isn’t that why you’re here? To play Who’s the Better Liar? I hear it’s one of your favorites.”

“I’m here to get answers. Where is Harley? What do you plan to do to him?”

“Harley Keener? Tony’s little friend?” Her concern was less than touching, overly-faked as it was. “Oh, that is worrying. I’d hoped he would be here, you know. Tony has so missed him.”

Natasha seized on that statement, reading between the lines as she was so good at doing.

“You’re planning to use Harley to make Tony come back with you… He’s not leverage against _us_. He’s leverage against _Tony._ ”

There was a brief moment of stunned silence before Masque burst into laughter.

“You can’t be serious,” she gasped out. “Leverage!” she cackled, “Against Tony! As if he wouldn’t be _overjoyed_ to walk out of here beside me.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. She was hoping this would lead her to the information she wanted, trick Masque into lowering her guard. If they were going to play Who’s the Better Liar, Natasha intended to _win_.

“It’s been well documented how willing Tony is to sacrifice his own well-being for another’s. That goes even more so for people he actually knows. You wouldn’t be the first to use that against him.”

All of Masque’s amusement evaporated in an instant.

“Like you did, you mean?”

Natasha wasn’t expecting that. She wracked her brain trying to think of what Masque could possibly be talking about.

“I never-“

“Of course you did,” the villain snarled. “You’ve always put your own interests over Tony’s. Don’t think I am so blind as to have not noticed. You used Tony for your own ends countless times. How often did you get him to accelerate the timeline on a project for SHIELD by telling him how many people it would save, how many people would _die_ if he wasn’t fast enough?”

“That’s not even close to the same thing. What I told him was the truth. Lives were on the line. His tech saved a lot of good agents.”

“But that’s not what you told him, was it? You didn’t talk about the agents he _saved_. That wouldn’t speed up his work.”

Natasha fought to keep her face impassive. This wasn’t at all how she’d intended this conversation to go.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Wasn’t it, Agent Romanov? Tony is only human, though. He wouldn’t have been able to keep up with your demands forever. Something was going to have to give eventually. And it did. In Siberia. I know you and your team wish to blame me for the state Tony is in now, but it was not I who made him this way. It was not HYDRA. It was you, each and every one. You chipped away at Tony Stark piece by piece, making the hole bigger, until he finally fell in.”

This wasn’t news, exactly, but Masque still had yet to explain her logic.

“You’re awfully chatty for someone who isn’t telling us much.”

Masque leaned forward across the table.

“I’m happy to tell you all you want to know about how you hurt him, how much red your actions towards him have added to your _ledger_ ,” she spat. “For anything else? All those things you want to know about my organization and the other little baddies running around and causing you grief? You know my price for that already. Time’s running out, though. The offer has almost expired.”

.

Korma was adding the last handful of spices to the pot when she felt the chill down her spine that spoke of the arrival of Helheim’s ruler.

“Soup?” she asked, holding a bowl out towards the new arrival.

“I have come-“

“I know why you have come,” she said, gesturing for the royal to take the bowl. “You will need your strength. You should eat.”

Hela gave her a tight smile before accepting the bowl graciously.

“Thank you,” she said, with an incline of her antlered head.

Korma grinned toothily at her. She was so like her grandmother.

“That’s the advantage of being old, and _looking_ it, not that you’ll ever know,” she told the royal as she waved her down to sit on the pile of rough-woven throws.

“What is?”

“Nobody fights you anymore,” Korma laughed. “They humor you, because you’re old and crazy and you’ll be gone soon anyway. Ha! Joke’s on them! They’ll never be rid of me. Just ask my son. I’m pretty sure he’s given up hope that I’m going to die.”

“We may be Death’s favored few, but even we will die at some point.”

“All in due time,” Korma mused. “You wish to hurry us along, though.”

“If we do nothing to stop the Mad Titan from coming, we will _all_ soon be dead.”

Korma turned a somber look upon the queen, so young, barely even a thousand. Korma had grandbabies older than that. Great-grandbabies, even.

“I have seen a great deal in my time, Queen Hela,” she said somberly. “The Nine Realms have a way of making it through. We always have. Loss is a part of life. How else are we to appreciate what we have?”

“What the Mad Titan threatens is more than just _loss_.”

Korma waved her hand through the air as if to clear it. The young were so _excitable_.

“He is a spoiled child lashing out. He just happens to be a powerful one. I have thirty-eight children of my own. I am not unfamiliar with a tantrum.”

The queen’s lips thinned.

“I fear it is worse than that.”

“When you get to be as old as I am, there is not much left that scares you.”

Hela was silent for a long moment before she set her bowl of soup to the side and held both hands out toward her elder.

“Will you at least let me show you what I have seen?”

“I do not think there would be much of a point to it, if I did.”

“It could be I might surprise you,” Hela teased, “even in your old age.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally have the first appearance of Steve's PoV! Many of you have asked for it and here it is.

Steve stalked through the hallways, intent on getting to his destination. Masque was just _playing_ with them. They weren’t getting anything useful out of her. Natasha was the best interrogator Steve knew and not even she was getting anywhere. There was nothing to appeal to in Masque, no humanity. She got her greatest satisfaction from holding her secrets over their heads.

If Steve were a lesser man, he might have given into the temptation to use less savory means of convincing her to give them the information they wanted.

Harley Keener did not deserve whatever fate she had in store for him. He was only a child. He’d been surly and tacit the one time he and Steve had met, but he was a teenager so that wasn’t really surprising. Doubtlessly Potts and Rhodes had told him all sorts of things about Steve, too. It wasn’t the child’s fault.

In order to save him they needed answers, though, and they clearly weren’t going to be able to get those out of Masque. There were a few others from Masque’s organization in custody, but none of them knew enough to be useful in the first place. They were low-level thugs, nothing more. There was only one person who might actually know something.

Tony had been through so much already, but Masque couldn’t be allowed to get away with everything she’d done. She had to be stopped. It would help Tony, too, to be a part of that, Steve was sure. She’d held him captive and tortured him for so long. Even if she’d managed to get into his head like she clearly had, Tony would see the need to put her away. He’d already given them her real name, which was a huge piece of the puzzle. If Steve could just _talk_ to him, he knew he’d be able to make Tony see reason.

T’Challa had already been by Tony’s room to pass on the word of Harley’s kidnapping so he knew the genius would have already heard. He’d probably be more than ready to talk by the time Steve got there. He’d always had such a soft spot for kids, even if he did have a tendency of dragging them into the line of fire with him. He’d done that with Spiderman, who Steve still thought was a bit too young to be on the Avengers. He wasn’t like Wanda, who’d spent her entire life fighting already and didn’t have anywhere else to go. At least he was over 18 now.

Steve was unsurprised, if a little exasperated, to see Bucky hovering outside of Tony’s door. His best friend had become strangely fixated on the genius since his recovery. Maybe it was just because he’d found the guy in Masque’s base. He’d always had a protective streak a mile wide. Steve hoped he wasn’t still feeling guilty over what had happened to Howard. That hadn’t been his fault.

“Hey,” Bucky greeted as soon as Steve was close enough, “have you found anything?”

Steve shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Natasha’s still in with Masque, but I don’t have high hopes. She’s not giving us anything we can use.”

Bucky cursed.

“She’s smart, you have to give her that. Have the agents found anything at Harley’s place?”

“Not that I know of. I doubt they will, though. It didn’t sound like there was anything out of place except a few things missing from Harley’s room, including a suitcase.”

Bucky’s eyebrows rose.

“A suitcase? Do you think he could have gone with Masque’s people willingly?”

“If he did, it would have been because she tricked him. Probably she’s just trying to throw us off the scent. She won’t get away with it, though. We won’t let her.”

Bucky nodded, though the scowl on his face said he wasn’t happy about the news. Steve could hardly blame him. He wasn’t too happy about it himself.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing right now. I came to talk to Tony, see if he can’t give us some more information we can use.”

Inexplicably, Bucky stiffened.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea for you to go in there? I mean, you remember what happened back at the base when you showed up. He was _terrified._ ”

“He was disoriented,” Steve defended, taken aback and a bit hurt. “He didn’t really know what was going on. I mean, you saw how out of it he was. You said he was doing better.”

“He is. I just… He seems really delicate. Sometimes the littlest things set him off. He’s more skittish than _I_ was when you brought me back in.”

Ah. So that was it. Bucky was seeing himself in Tony. That was understandable. Steve should have figured it out sooner. No wonder he was getting so protective. He reached out to grasp Bucky by the shoulder.

“And look at how far you’ve come. Tony will get there, too, but he won’t be able to with Masque running around and playing these head games with all of us. We need to get Harley back and lock her up for good. I won’t push him too hard, Bucky, but he’s been with her for _years_. He _has_ to know something. It could make the difference in saving Harley’s life, and the lives of who knows how many other people.”

Bucky still looked conflicted.

“He doesn’t think Masque was behind the kidnapping. He insisted she wouldn’t do that. Vision is in there now trying to talk to him.”

“He’s just confused,” Steve insisted. “Don’t worry. We’ll get Harley back.”

Bucky didn’t respond, or look comfortable with the idea, but he didn’t stop Steve as the captain moved toward the door. He must have been really worried. Steve would need to take the time to talk to him later on. Maybe they could get some sparring in once they had Harley back safe and sound. That had to be Steve’s top priority right now.

He pushed the door to Tony’s room open. The genius was sitting up in the bed, his back to the door with Vision hovering in front of him. It nearly took Steve’s breath away to see him here, _alive_. He could still hardly believe it. He’d lost Bucky and gotten him back and he’d lost Tony only to get the same. He didn’t know what he’d done to get so lucky but he thanked God for the blessing. A smile stretched its way across his face. He hadn’t been able to come see Tony since they’d brought him back, too busy dealing with Masque, and he was glad to get the opportunity now. He’d missed him.

“It’s good to see you up. Bucky said you’ve been doing better.”

Tony twisted around so fast that he fell off the bed, saved from crashing to the floor only by Vision’s quick reflexes. He scrambled desperately against the construct’s hold, a terrified kind-of whining noise coming from him that shot straight to Steve’s heart. He surged forward as Tony escaped Vision’s hold and pressed himself into the corner.

“What did you do?” he accused.

Behind him, Bucky burst into the room. Steve left him to deal with Vision as he went to Tony’s aid.

“Tony! Tony, it’s Steve. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

His fingers had barely skimmed Tony’s arm before a fist slammed into the side of his face with all the force of a mack truck. He felt his cheekbone shatter as he flew sideways into the hospital bed.

.

Tony ran, nearly blind with fear. He had to get away, had to escape. He’d panicked, _hit_ Steve, as if Steve wasn’t mad enough at him already. Tony remembered vividly what happened the last time he hit Steve. He had to get away!

He ignored the calls of his name behind him as he scrambled out of the medical room and took off. Whitney had saved him before. She could save him again. She could get him out of here. She _always_ saved him. He had to find her. He fought through his haze of panic to think. The Avengers headquarters had been expended in the last few years, but the basic layout hadn’t changed. He still remembered it from his initial designs. They’d be keeping Whitney in the high security containment area. He just had to get there and then he’d be able to get away.

He nearly stumbled and fell on his face when he heard Steve call his name, but he managed to keep his feet under him. He poured on the speed, trying to outrun the memories of seeing that shield come down on his chest, his _heart_ , so sure that it was meant for his neck, just as much as he was trying to outrun the man himself. If Steve caught him, Tony wasn’t sure what he’d do. He just knew it’d be bad.

He flew through the corridors, pushing off of walls to make the sharp turns. People he didn’t recognize dove out of the way, though he encountered Sam at one point and the man tried to get in front of him. Sam was Steve’s friend. He’d sided with Steve in the War. He’d only try and catch Tony and keep him until Steve could come for him. Tony pushed past him, feeling a shot of guilt at the other man’s pained cry. He couldn’t stop, though, not when Steve was coming after him.

He lost precious seconds at the access panel to the high security containment area. He could have hacked in, but he had no equipment and it would have taken too long even if he did. He ripped the card swipe off the walls and reached into the hole left behind, grabbing a fistful of essential wires and yanking hard. It’d been a weak point he’d meant to get rid of, just as soon as the Accords were signed.

He darted through the door, only to come to a screeching halt at the new obstacle that faced him. Thor stood in the main corridor of the containment area, even bigger and stronger than Steve. The interrogation rooms were just past him, which was no doubt where Whitney was being held, but there was no way Tony would make it. No way. Tears gathered in his eyes. He couldn’t get away, get to safety.

“You’re trembling, friend Tony,” Thor rumbled quietly, far more quietly than Tony would have expected him to.

“Please,” he gasped out, feeling desperate, “I just need to find Whitney. Please.”

Thor gazed at him for a long moment, as Tony twisted his fingers together. Any second now, Steve would come bursting through the door and Tony would be out of time. It would be too late.

“Please,” he tried again. “I’m scared.”

“I do not believe I have ever heard you admit such before,” Thor said softly, considering him carefully. Then, “Come, I will show you the way.”

Tony hurried to join him as Thor turned to walk down the corridor, glancing over his shoulder at the door to the containment area. Should he have taken the time to lock it behind himself? It wouldn’t have done much good, only buy him a little extra time. He just had to hope he’d managed to lose Steve in the corridors.

“I do not know that my actions are the correct ones,” Thor said as he came to a stop in front of one of the doors, “but my instincts tell me this is what you need. I hope that is true.”

He didn’t wait for Tony’s response, just pushed the door open. The first person Tony saw was Natasha, looking surprised and half-out of her seat. He thought it was a trap for the half-second it took him to realize that Whitney was sitting across the table from the Black Widow and then he was darting into the room like a shot. He fell to his knees beside Whitney, burying his face in her stomach and wrapping his arms around her. Her hands fell gently to his hair, smoothing it back gently.

“What the Hell is this?” Natasha accused. “Why would you bring him here?”

“I did not. He found his own way. He is… not well.”

Natasha probably would have continued with giving Thor a piece of her mind if Whitney hadn’t started speaking then.

“What is it, Tony? What’s wrong?”

Tony clutched at her tighter.

“He’s coming for me. He came to my room and I-I panicked, I’m sorry! I hit him! I just had to get away! Please don’t let him take me. I want to go home!”

The shivers wracked his body now and Whitney shushed him.

“No one will be allowed to hurt you, dear one. No one. I will not let that happen.”

“As if we would,” Natasha spat. “Despite whatever sick lies you’ve been feeding him, none of us would _ever_ hurt Tony.”

Whitney’s hands paused for just a moment before they continued stroking his scalp.

“Then who exactly do you think he’d so afraid of? It certainly isn’t me.”

As if on cue, there was a clattering out in the corridor. Steve had finally caught up with him. Tony couldn’t help the whimper that escaped him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently began posting one of my original novels here. If anyone is interested in reading it, the first chapter is here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11152806/chapters/24885585


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor, Steve, and Harley-dearest.

Thor wasn’t stupid or slow, despite what he knew many believed. There was much he still did not understand about Midgard, but he had learned from his time spent here. Even before his brief banishment and all that had come with it, he’d been raised as a prince, educated. He was no genius like his brother had been, but he was smart enough. He remembered his father’s advice before sending him off on this mission.

_“Consider wisely, my son, who is to be your enemy and who your friend. It is oft easy to confuse the two.”_

It was a simple thing to predict the good Captain’s intentions in the moment before he launched himself toward the Man of Iron and Masque. It was even simpler to intercede and stop him. Enhanced though he may be by human standards, his strength still could not match that of a god.

Suddenly, friend Tony’s anxious fear of being pursued made a lot more sense. Steven’s face was twisted in anger, doubtlessly meant for Masque, while Tony’s former-captor was curled around him protectively, as if shielding him from harm with her own body.

“Enough,” Thor commanded, shoving the Captain back with only just enough force for him to get the message to stand down. “You do not help matters here.”

The look of betrayal that flashed across Steven’s face quickly shifted to anger. He shrugged off the hand James lay on his shoulder.

“What are you doing, Thor?” he hissed. “Did you _let_ him in here?”

“I showed him the way. It was where he wanted to come.”

Steven’s disapproving scowl was impressive, if not effective. Thor had grown up with Loki for a brother and Odin as a father. It was going to take a lot more than _that_ to make him double think his actions.

“I told you,” Masque spoke, cutting off any further argument, “that it was only a matter of time.” Her gaze flickered over to land on Lady Natasha. “And you thought I would have to threaten him. He chooses me freely. It is not I he fears.”

“Because you’ve had three years to mess with his head,” Steve spat, and Thor did not miss the way Tony cringed at the sound of his voice each time he spoke. “Who knows what lies you’ve been feeding him? We’re not letting you mess with him anymore.”

Masque hmmed as if she were almost bored by the conversation.

“Tony, dear? Tell me why you’re afraid.”

The genius’s arms tightened around her. He pulled his head up, though, so his words wouldn’t be muffled against her abdomen. When he spoke, his voice trembled in the same way his body did. It had been a long time since Thor had seen someone this afraid. This was _terror_.

“Because I remember,” was all he managed to get out.

Masque continued stroking her fingers through his hair. It reminded Thor uncomfortably of his mother when he or Loki had come to her distraught as children.

“What do you remember? It’s alright. I won’t let anyone hurt you for what you say.”

Tony shifted as though to look over his shoulder at them before flinching away just shy of actually spotting them.

“All I wanted to do was protect the team,” he confessed quietly, and it was as if someone had sucked all of the air out of the room. It was as silent as the Void, except for Tony’s words. “I tried so _hard_ , but I was always wrong somehow. I don’t- I don’t know what else I could have done. But someone had to do it. I just… then after Ultron the world wasn’t going to let supers keep running around unchecked. If we weren’t on top of the change then we’d all have wound up in prison. I didn’t-“ he choked up, “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I just wanted to keep the team _safe._ I don’t know why that made them hate me.”

Lady Natasha’s expression was closing off, retreating behind a façade of stoicism, and Sergeant Barnes was staring at Tony with a pained look. But the captain… He looked conflicted, torn between pain and anger. Thor did not understand it.

“That’s not true! That’s a lie she told you, Tony! Snap out of it!”

“’Snap out of it’?” Masque quoted, in the kind of dangerously delicate tone Thor had long since learned to fear from Lady Natasha. “As if his trauma is a thing for him to just _shake off_? You have _no idea_ what you have done to him, do you? _Do you_?”

She sounded angry now, and Thor shifted his stance as though preparing for battle. The chains wouldn’t let her so much as rise fully and Tony still clutched her around the middle besides, but Thor could not help the overwhelming sense that she was a _threat_.

“I’m his _friend_ ,” Steve snarled. “You, on the other hand, held him and tortured him for _years_. Don’t even try to act like _we’re_ the ones at fault here.”

“I have never met anyone more, on the contrary. You _disgrace_ the colors you wear and the honor they stand for. You portray yourself as righteous but you are the rot that infests the world, so self-absorbed you cannot see past the end of your nose to the trouble you cause. You are a fool, Steven Grant Rogers, and your team will die because of it!”

Thor was so shocked by the vehemence of her words that he was a split second too late to realize that the captain had lunged forward once again. One fist was cocked back to hit Masque with a blow that would be as likely to break her jaw as it was to land at all. Thor leapt forward, knowing already he would be too late to stop it, when another obstacle rose to block Steve’s way instead.

.

Steve barely managed to pull back his momentum enough to keep from hitting Tony full across the face. The genius had shot to his feet, his arms spread wide to cover the path between Steve and Masque completely but his shoulders were hunched, his head dipped low and his eyes squeezed shut in preparation for a blow.

“Tony?”

The man flinched at the sound of his voice. Nothing more than a soft question made him jerk as if prodded with something sharp.

“Please,” he rasped, and it was downright painful just to listen to him talk, “don’t hurt her. Be mad at me, punish _me,_ but please, Steve, don’t hurt Whitney.”

It was like Bucky all over again, when Steve had first encountered him and he was still in HYDRA’s clutches. But it was worse, too, in some ways. The Winter Soldier hadn’t been Bucky, hadn’t been _anyone_. This was Tony, somewhere in there, but a Tony that was broken and twisted in ways that Steve didn’t know if they’d ever be able to fully put back to rights. They were damn well going to try, though, and every second he spent with Masque made that harder and harder.

He just couldn’t stand that Tony was _protecting_ her.

“She _tortured_ you, Tony. Why would you beg for me not to hurt her now? Come on, think about it. I know that’s still you in there.”

Tony glanced at him briefly before flinching and dropping his gaze again.

“Whitney saved me.”

“From HYDRA? Tony, she _bought_ you.”

But the genius was already shaking his head, still unable to look Steve in the face.

“From _everything_. There was always so much pressure, before. I could never do anything _right_ , was never _good enough_. I don’t have to worry about that anymore. With her. I don’t have to build things because the team or not-SHIELD or SI needs them. I only build things I _want_ to build. And nobody’s _counting_ on me to _fix_ everything or clean up the mess with the public when everything goes to hell. I just-I was so _tired_. _All_ the _time_.”

Something twisted in Steve’s gut.

“What’re you- What’re you saying, Tony?”

The genius swallowed convulsively and Steve suddenly realized it was the first time he’d ever seen him looking so _nervous._ It seemed wrong, so wrong, even knowing everything he’d been through, for Tony to have lost his confidence and self-assurance. That was part of what made him _Tony_.

“In Siberia,” he finally managed to get out, clearly struggling with the words, “I thought you were going to kill me. I could _see_ it, in my head, you bringing the shield down on my neck.” He swayed on his feet gently, and Steve almost reached out for him. “I know you wanted to. You were _so angry_.”

“Tony, no-“

“I think things might have been better if you had.” Steve sucked in air through his teeth, reeling backward. “But you didn’t. I had to keep surviving, keep pushing, keep _fighting._ Whitney isn’t perfect. I know that. I’m not- not _crazy_ , but… I don’t have to think when I’m with her. I don’t have to worry about fighting. I can just… be. That’s all I want, please. I just want to be.”

Steve could do nothing but stare at him, this broken shell of a once-great man, and choke on the feeling of failure that he hadn’t been able to _stop_ this from happening.

“She _hurts_ you, Tony.”

Finally, _finally_ , Tony’s gaze rose to meet his. It was like a punch in the gut to see the fear in his eyes, the fear of _Steve._

“Not as much as you did.”

.

Harley leaned as far against the door of the SUV as he possibly could, glaring out the window since he’d given up glaring at Paul, or whatever his real name was. Pepper had said she’d never heard of Whitney Frost, and Paul said he’d take Harley to see Tony but… It didn’t feel right. None of it did. Paul had a small laptop propped up on his knees, just as he had throughout their flight, and was typing away while the driver of the SUV navigated them through a maze of backroads. Harley had fallen asleep for a while on the jet, but he was starting to wonder at the laptop’s battery life if it still wasn’t dead.

“How much longer?” he asked sullenly.

They’d been in New York for a while now and he knew that was where the Avengers facility was. He’d just never been there himself. They had to be getting close. Paul glanced his way before turning back to his computer.

“If you need to use the restroom, you had an opportunity at the airport.”

Harley’s scowl deepened. What he hadn’t had an opportunity for was to run, not that he was sure he would have.

“That’s not why I was asking.”

“Good.”

And then nothing further. Harley huffed angrily and kicked the seat in front of him, even though there was no one in it. It was only the driver, Paul, and himself on this fun little family adventure.

“You better really be taking me to see Tony.”

“As you have said before. I assure you, that is exactly where we are taking you. My employer has a vested interest in reuniting the two of you.”

“Right. What you haven’t mentioned is exactly what that interest _is._ Why is Ms. Frost going through so much trouble for it?”

Paul didn’t answer for a long time, still typing away. Harley kept right on watching him as they rounded yet another bend. After a few moments, Paul typed in a few last keystrokes and shut the computer. He took his time tucking it away in the bag he’d originally produced it from before turning to look at Harley fully, shifting in his seat to do so.

“You are very important to Mr. Stark,” the man said, “even after all his time away. It would make him happy to see you again.”

Harley narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah, and I’m sure Ms. Frost is a great person and all, but I doubt that’s the _only_ reason she’s doing this. What does she get out of it?”

Paul considered him so a long moment. Harley was almost startled to feel the SUV slowing down. A glance through the front window revealed the guardhouse and gate to what could only be the Avengers HQ.

“A lesson,” Paul finally said as they came to a stop. One of the guards stepped out of the little office to stare in their direction, “for a few individuals who are in desperate need of it. Now, I believe this is your stop.”

Harley reached for his bag, hands tightening around the straps.

“You’re not coming with me?”

Paul smiled. It was not a nice smile.

“No. I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really interested to hear what everyone thinks of Steve's perspective this chapter. You know, if you're interested in sharing.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helen, Harley, and Hela.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second chapter is being uploaded today of the characters mentioned in this chapter.

Helen Cho had barely settled in at the Avengers complex when Tony made his mad dash across the complex. She hadn’t even had a chance to see him yet. What she _did_ know already was that there was something very, very wrong going on around the place. There was the clear divide between the two sides of the original Avengers team where they’d split over the Sokovia Accords, and then there were all the new Avengers who had joined the team since then. This was more than that, though.

There was a lot going on with the search for Harley Keener and his kidnapper, none of which directly affected Helen or her work. She couldn’t help observing it, though, and what she saw did not give her a great deal of confidence. Maybe it was just her perspective, but it didn’t seem like there was any _order_ to it.

She was here to help Tony, though, and that was exactly what she intended to do. She’d had his file in hand and was heading to see him when she was nearly knocked off her feet by his desperate bid to escape. Captain Rogers and Mr. Barnes’ pursuit had only alarmed her more. Sam, who’d actually gotten in the way, was sporting a sprained wrist from landing wrong after being shoved aside.

What Helen wanted to know was what the _Hell_ had scared her patient so much that he felt like he had to run. She was damn well going to find out.

.

Harley clutched his bag tightly. The SUV had taken off almost before he’d had both feet on the ground and he was pretty sure it hadn’t done anything to endear him to the armed guards at the gate. The guard who’d stepped out initially had been joined by two others, all with their guns aimed his way.

His mom would _kill_ him if he got shot.

“Drop the bag!” the lead guard shouted and Harley released his death grip on the canvas tote immediately.

It thumped to the ground at his feet as he raised his hands up above his head.

“Don’t shoot! I’m just here to see Mr. Stark!”

Two of the guards kept their guns on him while the third dragged the bag a few feet away and started digging through it.

“What’s your name, son?” asked the first guard, one of the two who still had his gun trained on him.

“H-Harley Keener,” he stammered out. “I swear there’s nothing in the bag that’s meant to hurt anyone.”

“All clear,” the guard rifling through his bag confirmed.

The lead guard gave a brief hand signal and the guns came down.

“You’ve had people around here in quite an uproar,” the guard said. He was a broad fellow, with a cleft chin that could make Superman jealous. Or his comic artist. Whatever. “Let’s get you inside and you can tell us about how you got here from your home.”

They didn’t give him his bag back, and treated him to a quick pat down before letting him past the gate. It was only after that whole production that they got on the radio to announce his arrival. Ms. Potts was waiting for him at the front doors, dashing over to sweep him into a hug the second she laid eyes on him. Which was weird. He was pretty sure it was the first time Ms. Potts had ever hugged him. She hadn’t offered him any more than a handshake at Mr. Stark’s funeral. She’d been in pain then, he got that, and they hadn’t seen each other many times other than that. Still. Weird.

“Oh, God, Harley! You’re okay!”

He pat her awkwardly on the back.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” he said, since it seemed like something he _should_ say. “I just wanted to get here, to see Mr. Stark.”

“I know.” _Shit_ , her voice sounded watery. Was she gonna cry? Harley was _so_ not prepared to handle it if she cried. “I know, and I’m sorry. Whitney Frost is Madame Masque. She’s the one who had Tony all this time,” a hiccupped sob, and Harley’s veins turned to ice. “We thought she had you!”

“Where’s Mr. Stark?” he asked, because the only other thing he could say was that Masque _did_ have him. “He’s hurt, right? I want to see him.”

After that, he could deal with the rest of it later. To his immense relief, Pepper pulled away, wiping at her eyes. There were several others in the lobby staring at them. This was not how Harley had exactly anticipated his arrival going.

“He’s, um, there’s been a bit of an incident,” the redhead admitted. “Why don’t I take you do go see Happy and we’ll get you settled? Rhodey is with Tony right now. We’ll let him know you’re here. I’m sure he’ll want to see you.”

She reached out for his bag and the guard relinquished it to her easily.

“What do you mean? What kind of incident?”

He rushed to follow after her as she turned to head further into the compound.

“He’s not hurt,” Ms. Potts comforted immediately, but Harley didn’t quite believe her. Her expression was too tense, her lips pursed. “There’s just been a lot of excitement going on around here. Tony’s not… He’s still recovering, from everything that’s happened to him the last few years. The excitement has been a bit much for him.”

Yeah, his mom liked to pull this kind of thing on him, too. He knew when he wasn’t being told the full story. That was fine. He’d figure it out. Mr. Stark would tell him the truth, if no one else would. He could count on Mr. Stark. He just had to bide his time until then.

“So, he’s resting?” he probed.

Ms. Potts’ lips thinned.

“He was. We’re trying to get him calmed down a bit more for now. Knowing you’re here will probably help.”

She managed to muster up a smile, but it was stiff at best.

.

Hela raised her chin high, her great antlers weighing heavily and pulling her head further back. Her gaze swept over the others in her presence. Angela had been successful. Korma sat cross-legged on the ground beside the two fire giant twins, Abaddon and Apollyon. Their blackened skin shifted over their molten centers with each movement, ash flaking off and darkening the ground all around them. They sat on their haunches, beetle-shaped frames bent over themselves. Heat waves rose from the craggily ridges ringing their backs and lava bubbled out from the center. The elven elder was listening attentively to whatever story it was they were telling with their grand hand gestures and tiny, fiery creations acting it out.

Angela stood at the queen’s side, arms crossed over her chest and an unimpressed look on her face. Her red hair drifted gently in the breeze but her fabric sash ‘tails’ twitched restlessly and belayed her tension. Their numbers were not yet complete.

“You sent the message?” the Angel asked.

Hela gave a slow nod, feeling exhausted. They had finally gotten all of the souls sorted from Thanos’ recent massacre, but it was only a matter of time before he committed his next genocide and they had to start the whole process all over again. Hela would be pulled back to her realm should that happen but she was going to do everything in her power make sure it didn’t come to that. There would be a great amount of death to come, to be sure, but Hela would not have it on her head for doing nothing to stop it.

“It was sent. Whether or not it was _received,_ however…”

Angela’s lips thinned.

“One of us should have gone.”

“There was not _time_.”

“Then I could have sent Sera. She is dependable. She could have gotten the job done.”

“ _If_ they didn’t kill her on sight. I’d rather not be welcoming your shield maiden among my royal guard just yet.”

Angela gave her a side eye, but she looked pleased.

“You would accept Sera among your royal guard?”

Hela sniffed haughtily.

“My royal guard is comprised of only the greatest warriors throughout history. Of course, she will join them when she passes.”

“She will be glad to hear that.”

“And you?”

“She deserves nothing less, but I know I will not be joining her. That is not a fate any of us can look forward to.”

“You would not attempt to extend her life?”

“To what end? We who have been chosen by Mistress Death will live forever. Should I extend her life, the price would have to be paid elsewhere. Better to let her go when her time comes. The pain of her loss shall be no less for putting it off.”

Hela could not help the small smile that snuck across her face at the other’s words.

“There are not many who would agree with your view. They would do anything to have their loved ones just a little while longer.”

“We Angels deal in cost as a way of life. Nothing is nothing and nothing is for free. I know well something that would weigh so greatly would have just as great a price, and it would be Sera having to pay, rather than I.”

“Death is all about the balance,” Hela agreed approvingly.

“Please don’t tell me the two of you are _bonding_.”

Both women whirled, only to have to look up, up, up at the skull-faced robot standing easily twice their height. On its shoulder perched a four-armed, blue humanoid with tusks protruding from the corners of its mouth. It was the great robot who had spoken.

“Death’s Head,” Hela greeted disdainfully. “I will never understand how you manage to remain so silent with your girth.”

“You are the one who sent for us, Queen Hela, Death’s Right Hand. I see you have gathered the others as well.”

The figure on his shoulder stood, grasping on to one of Death’s Head’s horns with his two right arms to lean out over the open air.

“I don’t think I have ever seen us all gathered together like this before.”

Korma snorted rudely, rising slowly to her feet. Apollyon held out one hand to help her up, the entire thing cooling to pitch black and hardening so as not to burn her on contact. She patted him kindly once she was standing.

“What a kind boy,” she praised. “As for you, Yama, there has never been a gathering such as this. There has never been the call for it.”

“Oh? So now you admit there is a call for it?” Hela questioned.

Korma sent her a withering look.

“Smugness is unbecoming of a royal.”

“Because you have ever cared for what is becoming,” Abaddon teased.

“None of which is of any consequence,” Angela cut off any more discussion. “We all know what the next step needs to be.”

That brought with it an air of sobriety.

“I’ve been working on getting a location,” Korma said into the silence, “but it will take time.”

“Time we don’t have, if your message was accurate. How many worlds has he destroyed now?” Yama asked.

“Three since his return from the Void between the Realms,” Hela informed. “We still don’t know how he got out. If he was able to do it once, though, then he’ll be able to do it again. We cannot rely on being able to stop him the same way this time. We need a more permanent solution.”

Death’s Head grinned.

“I do love a permanent solution.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are really ramping up now! Next chapter we'll get back to Tony and check in with what's happening there.


	19. Character Pictures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pictures of Hela and her cohorts, for those who would like the visual aid.

[](http://s1175.photobucket.com/user/mmhannaford/media/Hela_zpseuw6mama.png.html)

This is Hela, though I envision her with much larger antlers and her darker half a bit more like blackened leather. I am VERY interested in having art done for her and will happily commission the willing!

[](http://s1175.photobucket.com/user/mmhannaford/media/Abaddon%20and%20Appolyon_zps72ubwe6x.jpg.html)

Abaddon and Apollyon, the twins

[](http://s1175.photobucket.com/user/mmhannaford/media/Yama_zpsf46mtxkm.jpg.html)

Yama

[](http://s1175.photobucket.com/user/mmhannaford/media/Angela_zpsy1cwtpqs.jpg.html)

Angela

[](http://s1175.photobucket.com/user/mmhannaford/media/Korma_zpsc7dqi4fb.jpg.html)

Korma

[](http://s1175.photobucket.com/user/mmhannaford/media/Deaths%20Head_zpslqomqr7u.jpg.html)

Death's Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's not a full chapter, but at least it came with one!
> 
> Art Sources:
> 
> Hela - Hel Solstice by Andantonius (on dA)  
> Abaddon and Apollyon - Othonorian Firewalker by Cloister (on dA)  
> Yama - An illustration from The Complete Hindoo Pantheon, Comprising the Principal Deities Worshipped by the Natives of British India Throughout Hindoostan: Being a Collection of the Gods and Goddesses Accompanied by a Succinct History and Descriptive of the Idols by E.A Rodrigues in 1842  
> Angela - Angela Asgard's Assassin Vol 1Art by Stephanie Hans  
> Korma - (Oraiah Tallstep) by MarkoTheSketchGuy (on dA)  
> Death's Head - Secret Origins of Tony Stark, Penciller was Greg Land, Inker was Jay Leisten


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has a talk with Steve and Masque confronts Thor over the blood on his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured it was time for an update now that Stark Week 2017 has passed! I will miss it dearly, but that only makes me more excited for next year!

Things were not going well. Bucky worried his lip with his teeth as he followed Steve back toward his quarters. He hadn’t seen Steve flee from anything in years. His fight or flight response was weighted heavily on the ‘fight’ end of the spectrum. He looked shaken now, though, and didn’t even stop to give Dr. Cho the time of day as he hurried past her. He didn’t seem to notice anyone, period, not even Bucky following him.

It wasn’t until they were both inside Steve’s room, Bucky closing the door softly behind them, that Steve’s stoic expression dropped, though. His entire body crumpled as he fell into a chair, face in hands. His shoulders heaved with what Bucky feared might actually be sobs.

“Steve?”

The other man drew a shuddering breath.

“I don’t know what to do,” he finally said, sounding smaller than he ever had when he actually was.

Bucky took a tentative step closer, sitting down lightly on the edge of Steve’s bed but not reaching out for him. He didn’t know how to handle this situation. It was always _Steve_ comforting _him_ , not the other way around. He’d been in cryo when Tony had ‘died’ and there hadn’t been anything else to affect the other so much since Bucky had woken up again. He probably would have known exactly what to do back before HYDRA had gotten ahold of him and turned his brain into a slushy.

“About Tony?” he guessed.

It seemed as good a guess as any. He meant, really. What else could it possibly be about? He felt a bit like an idiot for asking now actually. Of course it was about Tony.

“He’s so… broken.” Steve sounded pretty broken himself. “How am I possibly supposed to fix this, Buck? What am I supposed to do?”

Bucky wished Steve had asked him this back when they’d first rescued Tony from Masque’s bunker. The answer had been so much easier then. It hadn’t changed, but it was harder to say.

“Honestly, Steve? I don’t think you’re supposed to fix it at all.”

Wounded blue eyes rose to meet his.

“He’s my _friend_.”

Bucky worried his lip again before having to consciously make himself stop. If he kept this up, he’d just end up bleeding.

“He _was_ your friend,” he finally settled on. Fuck it. He was the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t exactly known for being comforting, and he sure as hell couldn’t think of a way to soften this. “I’m pretty sure that ended in Siberia, if not before. Look, I know we didn’t realize it at the time cause we thought he was just scared of the whole situation, but the moment he set eyes on you at Masque’s base, he freaked out. Every time someone mentions your name, he flinches and panics. When you came into the room… He’s terrified of you, Stevie. I don’t think that makes you the best person for him to be around right now.”

The wet trails left over from his tears only served to make Steve’s hurt expression all the more potent. He mustered himself, though.

“That’s Masque’s manipulations talking,” he insisted.

Bucky wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, Bucky or himself. He knew the truth, somewhere in that thick skull of his. He just didn’t want to admit it. That was fair, Bucky supposed, it wasn’t a pleasant truth. Bucky was used to facing unpleasant truths, though.

“What do you think would have happened if Masque hadn’t gotten ahold of him, if he hadn’t been taken and had come back to what was left of the Avengers?” he demanded, trying to soften his tone as best he could, which wasn’t much. “That’d he’d just get over everything that happened? Look, I’m not saying he was exactly a saint in the situation, but he wasn’t the only one coming out dirty. I killed his parents, Steve, whether or not HYDRA was behind the orders, and you kept it from him. Then we left him beaten and alone in an abandoned building, far from any help or civilization. We left him, Steve. You left him for _me_. Whatever friendship you might have had before, it was gone by then.”

Steve scowled.

“I would have written to him, explained things. You don’t know Tony, Bucky, He would have come around.”

“You’re right, I don’t know Tony. But even with all the holes in my head, I do know _you_ , punk. Explaining things isn’t apologizing, and I don’t even know if an apology would have made a difference. It sure wouldn’t have done jack shit for me. You could apologize till you were blue in the face and I’d still want to punch you in the jaw. You _lied_ to him about his parent’s _murder_ , Steve. No one should have to find that out from some fuckin’ psycho after being betrayed by half their team.”

“I didn’t lie to him!” Steve sputtered, “And we didn’t betray him! He could have let us go at any time. He didn’t have to try and stop us. He knew we were doing what we thought was right.”

Bucky gave him a flat look.

“You damn well know that not telling him about his parents for _three years_ is no better than lying to him. You chose not to tell him. And the rest… Don’t you think Tony was fighting for what _he_ thought was right, too?”

Steve scrubbed at his face, clearly starting to get irritated. Bucky didn’t even care. Fuck it. Steve needed to get this before things got even worse.

“Of course he was,” he huffed. “Tony doesn’t do anything he doesn’t believe in.”

Bucky stared at him, just waiting. Steve glared.

“I know what you’re getting at, Bucky. It’s not like that.”

“Why not?” he demanded. “Why is it okay for you and not for him?”

“You were innocent, Bucky. They had the wrong guy.”

“They didn’t know that. _He_ didn’t know that. He did what he thought was right. And when he realized he was wrong, he came to help us. Only to find out that I’d murdered his parents. What would _you_ have done, if the situation had been reversed? Hell, Steve, what would you have done if it hadn’t been _me?_ ” He barreled on before the other could even open his mouth, “So, he’s been through all of that shit, then gets stuck with HYDRA, then Masque. It’s a miracle the guy is even fucking sane at all anymore, that he can hold a conversation. He is, though. He’s very aware. He knows where he is and what’s going on. He’s messed up, sure, but he’s not an invalid.”

“I know that.”

“Then stop treating him like he can’t make his own decisions. He doesn’t want you to ‘fix’ him, Steve. I’m only still visiting him because he hasn’t kicked me out yet, but I’ve made damn sure he knows that’s an option he has. There’s no mystery about whether or not he wants you there. I know you want to help, but maybe it’d be better if you respected his desires and didn’t.”

Yeah, definitely not very good at comforting.

.

Things were going well, Tony thought. Steve was gone and they were actually letting him _stay_ with Whitney. He hadn’t been expecting that. Thor had even brought him an extra chair so he could sit more comfortably than at the ground at Whitney’s feet.

Rhodey’d appeared in the doorway briefly, looking a cross between concerned and angry, and Natasha had stepped out to talk to him while Thor stayed. Presumably, he was there to supervise and make sure Whitney didn’t hurt Tony anymore. Tony knew he shouldn’t be surprised that even after all this they still didn’t understand.

Granted, he really shouldn’t have gotten so antagonistic with Steve. That was really going to come back to bite him in the ass. Steve was probably figuring out the best way to punish him right now. He wouldn’t _say_ it was a punishment, of course. He’d probably say it as something ‘for Tony’s own good,’ but Tony knew it was really meant to hurt him. He knew Steve’s true feelings for him.

He was so distracted eyeing the door that he jumped at the sound of Whitney’s voice, even though the words weren’t aimed at him.

“I am surprised by your actions,” she said to Thor, “but I appreciate them. Thank you. I will remember this.”

Tony watched silently as Thor gave her a long look.

“Do not mistake me,” he rumbled. “Your past actions against my friend have not endeared you to me. However,” and here his gaze flickered over to Tony, who quickly looked down at the floor, “his loyalty to you is not something I disregard lightly. Friend Stark’s attachment to you is strong, and I wish him no further distress. If you attempt to harm him again, though, I will not stand by and allow it.”

The growled threat in his voice was nothing to scoff at and Tony cringed closer to Whitney. He kind of wished he _could_ be kneeling beside her. If he could rest his head in her lap, he knew she’d run her fingers through his hair in that impossibly soothing way of hers. She couldn’t exactly reach him as it was with her hands cuffed to the table.

“Please don’t hurt her,” he murmured softly.

When he chanced a glance up at Thor, the thunder god was gazing down at him with a soft expression. It reminded him of the look Pepper always gave to any homeless children they passed on the city streets.

“I don’t have any plans to,” Thor told him. “But I will not allow her to hurt you any further, either. I do not know all that has transpired in my absence from Midgard, but I see that many injustices have befallen you. No more.”

In his peripheral, Tony noticed the way Whitney perked up before she spoke.

“I would be happy to tell you,” she volunteered. “Tony and I have talked about it extensively, though he prefers to downplay the pain he was caused. Shall we start with your own sins? Or would you like to work your way up to that by starting with the others on your team of _heroes_?”

The way she spat the word heroes out utterly dripped with sarcasm. Instead of taking offense or getting riled up, Thor cocked his head to the side in consideration.

“My sins?” he asked. “I have hardly been here but for on occasion. What is it that I have done?”

Miracle of miracles, he sounded actually curious. Whitney hummed in delight at having an audience that would actually listen to her. Tony could see her warming up to Thor already.

“You killed his child,” she said gleefully.

Tony flinched violently. Thor reared back, nostrils flaring and hands tightening into fists. Oh, god, oh, god-He looked _so mad_.

“ _What?_ ” Thor hissed out. “I would never harm a _child._ ”

Tony cowered into himself, wishing there was somewhere to hide.

“Not all children are those of flesh and blood,” Whitney hissed right back, her friendly demeanor evaporating as if it had never been there at all. “Tony crafted JARVIS with love and passion, raised him, taught him, breathed _life_ into him. JARVIS was Tony’s _child_ , and you _killed_ him.”

Thor blustered.

“Ultron slew the spirit of the tower,” as if that was _all_ JARVIS had been. “Friend Stark said so himself, after the initial attack.”

Tony closed his eyes against the pain. It still felt so _raw_ whenever he thought of his AI, a gaping wound in his chest far more painful than the arc reactor had ever been.

“Some of his code survived,” he murmured, swaying a bit in his seat. “He escaped, just barely, from that first attack when Ultron ripped him apart. I could have fixed him. I was _going_ to fix him, make him whole again,” his voice wobbled as tears stung his still-closed eyes. “If you hadn’t come bursting through the window and _attacked_ … VISION is a treasure, but his life was the end of JARVIS’s. I cannot get him back now. I will _never_ get him back.”

He felt it as Whitney’s leg pressed against his own and he crumpled into her, pressing his face into her shoulder to seek comfort. It’d taken him a long time to feel safe going to her like this, showing weakness like this, but she had taught him it was the thing to do.

Silence reigned.

Then, “I had not realized.”

Tony pressed in closer against Whitney, wishing she could wrap him up in her arms.

“No one ever does. No one ever _has._ No one but Whitney.”

Whitney pressed her cheek, still covered by her mask, against the top of Tony’s head.

“I am the only one who has ever bothered.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, chapter projection went up again. I tacked on an extra five chapters here upcoming. I _think_ that'll do it but I guess we'll see. A lot of things will be coming to a head here in the next few chapters.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Branson talks to Tony a bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay on this chapter! Things have been utterly insane. I _do_ have updates lined up for almost all of my regular fics, though! So that has to count for something, right? Right? *hopes so*

Hanif Branson wasted no time hurrying through the hallways of the Avengers compound and toward the holding cell area. He felt like there hadn’t been a moment of down time since Mr. Stark’s arrival, not that any of it could be held against him. There was just one thing after another happening, when Hanif felt his newest patient could probably most benefit from a peaceful and steady environment. Mr. Stark’s mental state was precarious, the product of years of systematic abuse and a series of traumatizing events even before that.

He’d just come from meeting with Ms. Potts and the young Harley, who had quite literally shown up on their doorstep. Harley seemed none the worse for wear, which was fortunate, but it was also startlingly clear that Masque had engineered his coming. That was concerning in and of itself, with Masque’s motivations still a mystery.

They couldn’t interrogate her with Mr. Stark still in the room. Without knowing all the information, there was no way to know how it would affect Mr. Stark. The last thing any of them wanted was to upset him further. Though, by the sounds of it, he’d already had quite the upsetting day. Hanif didn’t know all of the details yet, but he would be speaking to all parties involved until he had the total picture. If he had to have some hard talks with Captain Rogers, he was willing to do that. Mr. Stark was his patient and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure the man was properly taken care of.

For now, that meant getting him out of the room and away from Masque so they could ask her their questions. Failing that, it would fall to Hanif to gently tell him of Harley’s presence and hope that could entice him away. The absolute last resort would be to remove him by force. Hanif had already spoken with Director Fury about the possibly disastrous ramifications of such.

“Colonel Rhodes, Ms. Romanov,” he greeted as he spotted them outside of the interrogation room door.

“Thor is in with them now,” Ms. Romanov stated. “He doesn’t know about Harley’s arrival.”

Colonel Rhodes was scowling darkly, but turned away to wheel himself into the observation room.

“We’ll be in here, if you need anything.”

Hanif nodded his thanks before opening the door and entering the interrogation room. As expected, Thor sat on one side of the table, looking discomforted with his back to the one-way glass, and Mr. Stark sat on the other with Masque. He was leaned against her shoulder, clearly taking comfort from her proximity. Hanif smiled at him, but made no move to take the second seat on Thor’s side of the table.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said instead, carefully directing his words toward Mr. Stark specifically.

“You are not,” Thor rumbled in response, counteracting that.

Hanif nodded to him in acknowledgement before turning back to Mr. Stark. He wanted to make it very clear who he was looking to get his information from, who was the focus and the ‘important’ person in the room. He wanted to give Mr. Stark a feeling of assertiveness back, even though it would be a long road. Knowing he was the focus might at least get him to open up and offer some information on his own, though.

“I hear you had a rough morning today, Mr. Stark,” he segued. “I was hoping I might be able to talk to you about it.”

Mr. Stark lifted himself away from Masque, sitting up straight, but still seeming uncomfortable in his own skin. He glanced Masque’s way, not _quite_ asking permission but still checking in, before looking back at Hanif.

“Okay. Sure.”

Hanif grabbed the empty chair and pulled it around so it would be at the side of the table, facing Mr. Stark.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

He knew better than to try and get Mr. Stark to leave with him right off the bat. He was still on edge, still untrusting. Hell, he had no _reason_ to trust any of them. His experiences so far had hardly been endearing. They would need to talk a bit before Hanif could broach the subject. He sat once Mr. Stark gave a quick nod of consent.

“Now,” he began, “I’ll confess that I’m not completely clear on what happened. Would you mind explaining it to me?”

Like a scolded child, Mr. Stark’s entire head dropped to look down at his hands. He splayed his fingers slightly as he looked at them, as if examining their appearance. Or perhaps the braces that granted him the ability to move them at all.

“S-Steve came into the room I’ve been placed in,” and neither the stutter over Captain Rogers’s name nor Mr. Stark not claiming the room as his own escaped Hanif. “I panicked, seeing him there, even though I knew that it was bad. I was just- _so_ scared. And I ran. Because I knew Whitney would keep me safe. And I-“

He cut himself off, shoulders hitching up higher. Hanif did not need to glance her way to know Masque was glaring at him, likely for upsetting Mr. Stark. He stayed focused on his patient. Mr. Stark was why he was here.

“It’s alright,” he soothed instead, though he knew Mr. Stark wouldn’t take his word for it. “That seems like it was a logical choice.”

At this, Mr. Stark actually did lift his head, looking surprised.

“It does?”

He wasn’t questioning himself, just Hanif’s response to his actions. Hanif gave him a sure nod.

“Absolutely. You were frightened, so you went to where you considered it safe. It seems perfectly logical to me.”

Masque was watching them speculatively now, and Hanif was thankful that Thor remained silent. He hadn’t interacted with the god much, but ‘quiet’ didn’t exactly fit his reputation.

“Let me ask you another question,” Hanif began again, when it became clear that Mr. Stark didn’t intend to give a verbal response. “Why were you frightened of Captain Rogers? Was he angry? Threatening?”

He couldn’t imagine the Captain threatening Mr. Stark, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t still _seem_ threatening. Mr. Stark shifted uncomfortably.

“Steve’s _always_ angry when I’m involved,” he confided, as if it were some great secret he was letting Hanif in on. “I always make everything worse.”

“You do _not_ ,” Masque cut in, sounding rather irritated herself, “and they were fools to make you believe it were so.”

Hanif would have to tread very carefully, both with Masque and Mr. Stark, if he did not want this to blow up in his face.

“By my understanding, Captain Rogers has been rather pleased that you were found. He has expressed his desire to help you.”

Mr. Stark flinched violently.

“S-Steve always calls it that,” he rasped out, almost too quiet to be heard.

Hanif leaned in a bit closer, wishing they were in a more private setting for this. He did not want to be having this conversation with his patient in front of so many onlookers. It was clearly something important, though, _impossibly_ important, and Hanif couldn’t just let it go. Mr. Stark might not be willing to open up about it to him later.

“What do you mean?”

“His ‘help’,” Mr. Stark answers, his hands trembling nearly as much as his voice. “H-he means his punishments. For me. He just never calls them that. H-he’s _always_ said he just wants to help. And then he hurts me.”

Nothing good lay down this rabbit hole, Hanif knew, but he would traverse it none the less. It was his job. But, more than that, it was what Mr. Stark deserves.

“He won’t hurt you this time,” Hanif promised softly. “No one here will let that happen. We’re here for _you_ , Mr. Stark, whatever that entails.”

His answering frown was confused more than displeased.

“Then why won’t you let me leave?”

It was asked like a child would ask it, pitiful and bewildering. Thor made an unidentifiable, wounded sort of noise and Hanif managed not to sigh only through years of experience.

“Because we are afraid that might hurt you, too,” he said candidly. Then, to extend more of an olive branch, to demonstrate that they _trusted_ Mr. Stark, “We are afraid that Madame Masque here hurts you.”

For the first time since their conversation started, Mr. Stark’s gaze met his. He looked… lost.

“Of _course_ she hurts me. She can’t help it. But… at least with Whitney, I know when it will come. I know what she’s going to do and I know why she’s doing it. I know, at the end of all of it, that she still cares about me and she’ll take care of me.”

Hanif couldn’t help his frown, nor the way his brows tugged together with concern.

“Have you ever heard of the term Stockholm Syndrome, Mr. Stark?”

That earned him a snort, even if was more self-deprecating than anything else. Mr. Stark dropped his gaze once again, but, for a moment, just a split second, his expression had been almost like those from his old interviews and press conferences.

“I may be broken, but I’m still a genius,” Mr. Stark informed him. “I’ve been kidnapped too many times in my life not to know about Stockholm Syndrome.”

Much to Hanif’s surprise, Masque made no move to intervene here. She just leaned back in her chair and watched them closely. It made Hanif feel very much like a butterfly pinned behind glass and put up for display. He wondered what she saw in him. He imagined it was probably more than he would like her to.

“Then you must understand our concerns for the role it could very likely be playing in your relationship with the woman who has held you captive and hurt you for years, who took credit for your demise.”

Mr. Stark shook his head vehemently.

“She did that because HYDRA expected it,” he defended. “They had to believe I was dead, or they would have come after her, too.”

“Unfortunately, that does not lessen our concerns.”

Mr. Stark scowled down at his hands, but said no more. Hanif watched him for a long moment before speaking again.

“I would like to ask you to come with me, Mr. Stark,” he said softly, doing his best not to make it sound like an order. “There are a few questions we’d like to ask Madame Masque without you being present.”

“Why? I want to stay with her. I know I’m _safe_ with her.”

“Some of the things we need to ask her might be… upsetting for you to hear.”

Mr. Stark actually seemed to consider this, glancing up as Masque in contemplation.

“Can I come back afterwards, or do I have to go back to medical?”

That was actually a very good question, and not one Hanif had an answer for.

“Dr. Cho arrived some time ago,” he said instead, “and has been consulting in reference to your limbs. I am sure she would like an examination, if you would be willing. After that, I’m not sure. I don’t know if you will be allowed to come back here. I suppose it depends on how our questions get answered.”

“Oh,” Masque spoke, and Hanif could almost hear the grin in it. “Isn’t that _delightful?_ He’s here.”

Mr. Stark’s attention shifted to her instantly, as if drawn by a magnet. His entire body turned toward her just slightly. He was centered on her.

“Who?”

“Your surprise,” Masque continued with a purr. “You know how I do so love to spoil you, and this was such a perfect opportunity. I couldn’t resist.”

“What do you mean?”

Masque only leaned in toward him, her mask hiding her expression but her body language screaming out how she wished to reach for him.

“I brought you little Harley. I was pleased to hear he still feels as connected as you do.”

.

A grin stretched across Korma’s face, her wrinkle-lined features looking more like crags in the fire light.

“ _There,_ ” she breathed, the word almost a prayer. “I have found him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about to move into the next (and final!) arc of the story, so everyone buckle up. Shit's about to get real.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of visitors popping up at the compound, it would seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to deathsweetqueen for beta-ing this chapter! Thank you so much, hun!
> 
> Additionally, please accept my apologies for my lateness on this. I was trying to finish up commissions and then Spring Fling fics and then IW suddenly ATE MY BRAIN.

Pepper was sitting with Harley, keeping him occupied while they tried to figure out the situation with Tony, when the door to the conference room they’d taken over burst open. Tony himself stood in the doorway, wild-eyed and panting. His gaze was riveted on Harley.

“You’re really here,” was all he managed to choke out before they were both flying at each other, bodies colliding in the middle.

Tony’s arms latched onto Harley as fiercely as Harley’s were latched onto him. His nose was buried in Harley’s hair and Pepper could see the way he trembled. It was heartbreaking. Every bit as heartbreaking as the way Harley’s shoulders shook with what were clearly tears. Dr. Branson appeared in the open doorway behind them, with Rhodey. Dr. Branson spared Pepper a small, reassuring smile that made Pepper’s shoulders relax minutely. They’d managed to get Tony away from Masque, at least for now. Hopefully they’d be able to figure out her motivation in bringing Harley here soon. Pepper didn’t for one second believe it was just out of the goodness of her heart.

“Tony,” Harley gasped between sobs. “I thought you were dead.”

Tony shushed him, one hand coming up to brush through his hair.

“I know,” he murmured. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Pepper stared at the two of them. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Tony like this before. It made something inside of her ache with longing. She and Tony had never talked about having kids. She’d always wanted them, one day, but had assumed Tony wouldn’t. She’d been prepared to make that sacrifice for him, for their relationship, but it’d ended up being just one more thing on top of all the others. Seeing him like this, though, with Harley, made her think that maybe she’d been wrong. Tony certainly looked like a father.

“They said Madame Masque had you,” Harley said, drawing back just enough to be able to stare up at Tony with big, watery eyes. “Is it true? Were you being tortured all this time?”

His voice wobbled, but it didn’t falter. Harley was such an impossibly strong kid, just like Tony. Pepper tried very hard not to think about why that was. Tony’s face pinched.

“I’ve been with Whitney, yes,” he answered.

“But she’s here now, right? They caught her? She can’t come after you anymore? You’re safe now?”

Harley’s questions fired off quick as lightning and Pepper could see it, as a hint of panic started to creep into Tony’s gaze. She stood quickly, stepping forward to intervene before things could go south. The last thing they needed was for Tony to have another panic attack, or to start going on about how Masque had ‘saved’ him. Lying, manipulative bitch. Pepper wanted to shred her for how she’d managed to twist Tony’s mind all up.

Three _years_ , though… It was no wonder she managed it.

“We’re doing everything we can to help Tony recover,” she said with a smile, willfully ignoring the way Tony flinched ever so slightly at her words.

It wasn’t the first time. Dr. Branson said it probably had something to do with their phrasing, but there was no way for them to know all his triggers yet. They just had to be as gentle as they could and make note of anything they noticed.

Harley glanced between her and Tony, clearly realizing that something wasn’t quite right. Just another example of how the two were so similar, both too smart for their own good.

“Well,” she continued, pulling on a bright smile, “I’m getting to be starving and it’s just about lunch time. How about I get some food in here, huh?”

After all, maybe with Harley here, Tony would do more than just pick. He was far too skinny. Even with the liquid nutrients the doctors were giving him, he needed to be eating as much as possible.

.

Thor stayed in his seat, keeping a careful eye on Madame Masque as Anthony and Dr. Branson left and Natasha slipped into the interrogation room. Masque’s gaze never wavered from Anthony, and Thor could see cool calculation mixed with what looked to be true affection within them. There was possessiveness there, too. His lips pulled down in a scowl at the sight of it. As much as he was trying to understand Masque, his skin still crawled at the thought of everything she had done to his shieldbrother.

It was a relief for Natasha to slip into the seat next to him. This was, after all, much more her area of expertise.

“Alright,” she began matter-of-factly. “So you got Harley here. What now?”

Thor was surprised by her straightforwardness. She was normally so much subtler. Masque gave her a long look.

“Nothing now.”

One finely-plucked, red eyebrow rose.

“You expect me to believe that you arranged for Harley to be brought here just for kicks? It doesn’t really seem your style.”

Masque huffed.

“For Tony,” she corrected irritably. “Because, unlike those of you who pathetically pretend to be his friends, I actually do care for him. He’s missed Harley.”

Natasha hummed, appearing unperturbed by the venom in Masque’s voice. She reminded him of Loki, the way she was able to portray only what she wished others to see. It made Thor’s heart ache to think it. His brother was dead. Some days, it was just harder to accept than others.

“Why not take him earlier, then?” she asked. “Surely it wouldn’t have been hard. One little kid from a small town in the middle of nowhere? Even with his connections to SI and the Avengers, it would have been easy to make him disappear.”

“You already know why. Don’t waste my time with stupid questions, Widow.”

Thor was confused, but he stayed silent as the two women stared each other down, clearly at some sort of an impasse. Natasha cocked her head to the side finally and gave a quick nod.

“We’re done here. For now. Thor, come on.”

She stood without giving Masque another glance and Thor followed her out the door. It was only once they were back out in the hall that he dared to speak.

“Lady Natasha, I gather you gleaned something of importance?”

Her expression had morphed into a troubled frown.

“Nothing that makes me happy,” she admitted. “Masque brought Harley here now because it would make Tony happy, further securing her positive standing in his eyes. But the fact that she clearly had such easy access to him, but never used it before, means that it wouldn’t have had the same effect if she’d brought Harley to him earlier.”

Thor turned her words around in his mind, but psychology had never been an art he was gifted in. Not like Loki had been.

“I do not understand.”

“Why would it be okay for her to bring Harley to Tony now, but not before?”

Thor took his time to consider it.

“It would have blown her cover, as you say, would it not have? Faking Anthony’s death would have been rendered pointless if the young Harley were to start proclaiming to have seen him.”

“Not an issue if she didn’t plan on returning him, which I don’t think is exactly above her morals.”

A fair enough point, Thor supposed. She was already hiding Anthony, after all. It wouldn’t have been difficult to fold just one more person, a child, into the operation. He could even have been used as collateral against Anthony and vice versa to ensure good behavior and cooperation.

“Then keeping him wasn’t an option.”

“And if the whole point was to make Tony happy…” Natasha prompted leadingly.

“Keeping Harley there would not make him happy. Yet Anthony adores the young Harley and clearly prefers his captivity to escape. Why should it make him unhappy to have Harley join him if he has this… staffhome syndrome?”

“Exactly,” Natasha said. “It doesn’t make any sense for Tony to have a problem with it if he thinks what Masque is doing to him is okay. Which means he knows that what she’s doing to him is wrong and hurtful and wouldn’t want Harley in that environment. It means that Tony doesn’t _have_ Stockholm Syndrome.”

“But this is a good thing, yes?”

“On the surface, yes. But if Tony doesn’t have Stockholm Syndrome, if he knows she’s hurting him and that it’s wrong and a bad situation… If he knows all that and still prefers it over his freedom?  It means there’s a much bigger issue at play than we already feared.”

“Then we must inform Dr. Branson, that he may attempt to discover the root of the issue in Anthony’s mind.”

“Yeah, he’ll still be with Tony and the others, keeping an eye on his interactions with Harley. Here, let’s-“

Whatever she’d been about to say next was drowned out by the shrill, ear-splitting sound of the Avengers alarm. It wasn’t the alarm calling for them to assemble, though. It was the one to warn that they were under attack. Moments later, Fury’s gruff voice rang out over the intercom as the alarm cut off.

“We’ve got incoming in the West Field with multiple unknown subjects, converging at once. Be advised that the surrounding area is on fire. At current, subjects are being deemed hostile and should be treated accordingly. Approach with extreme prejudice but do not engage without orders unless engaged first.”

Thor called Mjolnir to him as he and Lady Natasha sprinted through the corridors. Steve and Bucky joined them in the main corridor, and Thor spotted Spiderman and Whistle as soon as they pushed through the doors to outside. Mjolnir smacked into his hand as his eyes locked on the pillar of flame only a stone’s throw away from the compound’s western wall. Well, a stone’s throw for him.

Figures could be made out as the fire died down, though not distinctly. One figure, however, seemed a towering behemoth who would dwarf even the frost giants of Jotunheim. Thor heard the snick of Wolverine’s claw sliding out and glanced over to see that the X-man, too, had joined them, along with several others. Doubtlessly, Hawkeye would have taken to the roof for a better line of sight, his bow at the ready. Thor moved forward, grip tightening on Mjolnir.

Shock rattled through him as the figures were exposed. Thor had never seen an assortment of its like before. The hulking figure appeared to be some sort of robot, a blue humanoid with far too many arms for comfort crouched on its shoulder. There were two creatures of Muspelheim, as well, both male as far as Thor could tell and seemingly identical. An elderly light elf stood beside an angel, a race of warrior females and sworn enemies of Asgard. And there, in the center of them all, was Thor’s niece. Hela, queen of Helheim, swayed on her feet just slightly before steadying herself and raising her antlered head to glare down her nose at those gathered before her. She was every inch Loki’s daughter.

Thor held a hand up to forestall any hasty actions from his own allies and strode to their front, placing himself between his teammates and the new arrivals. Whatever had brought them here, it could not be good.

“Hela, my kin,” he called in greeting, “I bid you welcome to you and your companions. Your visit, however, is a bit unexpected, as I know you rarely leave your realm. Pray tell me, what has brought you to the Avengers of Midgard?”

Hela’s cold gaze swept over him and the assembled Avengers, and Thor couldn’t help a shiver at the chill that ran down his spine. Rarely had he needed to interact with his niece in an official capacity, but there was no doubt that the being before him now carried all the bearing of a queen. She glanced briefly at the elf, who shook her head.

“Your Avengers are of no import to me or my companions,” Hela intoned. “We have not come here seeking them, though apparently it is to them our search has led.”

“Then why _are_ you here, my kin?”

“Calamity approaches, Thor, and the Realms must be ready to face it. Even we, Death’s Chosen, have been called to do our part.” Thor hissed at her words and reeled back, but Hela wasn’t done yet. “There is only one of our number left to join us. We have come to collect him. We have come for the Merchant of Death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the main plot has burst right in through the fucking for a little ahead of schedule! This may bring out chapter count down a little bit, but there are still several more to go!

**Author's Note:**

> Because Civil War gave me all the feels and I needed to fix it by making it worse. I don't even know, guys. Thoughts?


End file.
